


My Favorite Song

by Necro_Floodwaters



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necro_Floodwaters/pseuds/Necro_Floodwaters
Summary: The Master of Thieves, known now as John Cooper, is reborn in the Soul Eater universe. He has a task that needs completing. A new evil is rising in the world. Can the EAT beat it, or will they need help from an unlikely source?





	1. Unwritten

**Author's Note:**

> Necro: Hello! You'll have to forgive some of the formatting for a lot of these chapters! I'm copying these over from an account on a different site, so some things may be a little wonky!

It had been a year since Asura, the Kishin that had been trapped for over eight centuries underneath the DWMA, or Death Weapon Meister Academy, was released and subsequently destroyed by Maka Albarn, one of the greatest meisters at the DWMA.

Meisters are the only ones that can wield the weapons that allow them to hunt down Kishin eggs, souls that have been corrupted by murder and the consumption of human souls. After the destruction of the vessel, the weapon then reverts back to human form and devours the defiled soul. It is this act that makes the weapon stronger and the meister is responsible for helping the weapon achieve a goal of ninety-nine Kishin eggs and one witch soul. All this information ran through a certain young man's head as he wandered along the alleys and backstreets of a small town in Virginia. He clutched his arms as the skin split every two inches along them, crying out as each new split formed.

'I must apologize for the pain. The scars are the only way of keeping track,' a voice murmured in his head. 'I did warn you that if you said yes, the process would be painful.'

"Yeah, I know." The young man grunted as several more splits formed. "Why can't it be faster?"

'Because it would tear your muscles. I have no wish to cause you further harm.'

"Ugh...the way you speak is causing me harm!"

There was silence for a long time, during which the splits finally stopped forming. The boy sighed with relief, happy that the worst was over. 'I am afraid that thought is not accurate in the slightest. This next bit will be...well, you shall see.' And indeed the young man did see. For a time, anyway, before the pain made him black out and cease his screaming. Many hours passed when the young man's body woke again, though now it was stripped of nearly everything. He could not blame those that had done it, after all they been robbing a corpse. That was the part of the process he hated the most: in order for him to take over completely, the original body had to die.

"Great, I am cold. I will need to find a new set of clothes." The new owner of the young man's body stood, and immediately had to grab his underwear to keep it from falling. It would appear that he was doomed to be lean no matter what, given that the body had previously nothing but muscle, and lots of it.

'Sheesh, you're skinny.'

"Good to know you are still there." The younger boy had been worried that the other had not survived the transfer. "And I am not skinny. I could easily stop a car with these muscles. Possibly. Anyway, what is your name?"

'I'm Thomas, but shouldn't you know that? You've been in my head for years.'

"I do not pry into...you are correct, the way I speak is very irritating." He shrugged and began walking, still holding up his underwear. "Do you know of any clothing stores nearby? All I managed to get from you during the transfer was some nonsense about an academy."

'No, I don't. I'm not from around here.' The boy made an impatient sound in response to Thomas' answer and continued to walk.

"At least no one can see me, given that it is only a few hours until dawn." He sighed, turning a corner at the end of the alley and finding himself at the end of a shopping strip. His back to a large 'Come back soon' sign, the young man smiled. "Commercialism is certainly good for something, eh, Thomas?"

'Whatever you say, man.' Thomas replied boredly. He was too busy trying to dig through the boy's mind, but did not find much. All Thomas could really get were fleeting impressions at the forefront of their semi-shared mind. 'Dude, how do I read your mind?'

"That would be a very bad idea." The younger man pressed his ear against the glass of the first store he came to and frowned. "That is a lot of lace. Must be expensive." He moved from store to store, repeating the process of pressing his ear to the glass then moving on when it turned out to not have what he needed.

'You don't have any money, man.' Thomas remined the boy as he stopped in front of a young adults clothing store.

"Stop thinking of me as a boy. And I am very well aware of our financial situation." He may not have money, but he could easily pick the lock or climb in through the roof. Since he didn't have his lock picking kit, he would have to climb in through the roof, which was less likely to be wired to an alarm anyway.

'I can't believe I'm about to be an accomplice to a theft.'

"I would rather commit a theft than be arrested for public nudity. Now shut up." He sighed and carefully rolled his underwear so it wouldn't fall. "I better get someone smaller next time." He jumped up and grabbed the doorframe. "Now if I press from the door..." He pressed his feet against the door and shoved upward hard, using the momentum to grab the rooftop ledge and thanking whoever designed the building for making the door so close to the roof. He pulled himself up and over, swearing as he scraped his hands and legs on the way.

'Told me to shut up and look who's cussing up a dictionary.' The one in control paused and sighed.

"Shut up. If you make me laugh by saying anything else that ridiculous, we may be caught, should a police be patrolling nearby." He moved slowly across the roof until he found the outgoing ventilation. "Tight squeeze, but I can manage." And manage he did, wriggling and squirming through the ducts.

'Goodness, you're like a snake!'

"Not the first time I have been told this." The other replied, pushing open the grate in the store and dropping in. Browsing the jeans, he frowned as he realized that hardly anything there was his size, then he winced. "Damn. The facial scars are a little tender. And I can not find anything in my size. This is not off to a good start."

'Dude, just grab something! There are probably belts!' Thomas exclaimed.

"But I detest belts. They are very uncomfortable for me. As is this speech pattern." He snagged a pair of jeans that seemed like they would fit and moved on to the shirts. "What do you think of a button-up?"

'Seriously! Do we really have time for this?'

"There is always time for deciding between button-ups and more casual shirts."

'Just pick something already!' Thomas shouted, pacing inside their shared mind.

The man flinched and groaned, a headache starting up around his temples. "Right right. I need to be quick, efficient. In and out." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. The cool blue that used to fill the irises was gone, replaced by an emerald green that seemed to glow in the darkness of the store. He grabbed two button-ups then moved on to the shoe section. After finding a pair that he thought would fit, he grabbed a bag from the front and repeated the process until he'd filled it. On his way back to the open vent, he grabbed a leather jacket as well and slipped it on.

'Why the jacket? You don't need it.'

"I like jackets." He answered simply, slinging the bag into the vents and following after it using the clothing racks as a ladder. After fifteen minutes of wriggling, the bag in front of his face, and he was free of the confines of the vents. Next, he dropped the bag on to the street and followed it seconds later. "Now, food." He wandered the shopping strip for an hour before finally finding a place that sold food and clearing out what had been saved from the previous day.

On his way out, he passed an instrumental store and paused in front of it. 'Peering' inside, he suddenly broke the window and climbed in. 'Dude, what the hell!'

"Relax, the alarm system is a fake. And I want that violin." The instrument in question was residing in a display case by itself, not because it was special. In fact, the violin was perfectly ordinary and that it is why he wanted it. Pulling a tailor's pin from his button-up, he carefully picked the lock and grabbed the violin, along with the accompanying bow. "I have not held a violin in so very long. And it is so easy. Royalty were so much more fun."

'Royalty?'

"It was an interesting time in my life." He responded, climbing out through the window again and heading for the exit of the shopping center. "Thomas, since you do not know my name and I need one to go by at the moment, call me John. I will think of a last name at a later date."

'Why bother? You'll probably come up with some obviously fake name like Smith or Cooper.'

"My brother chose Cooper as his last." John said, somewhat indignantly.

'Oh. Awkward.' Thomas sighed, thinking that maybe it would be best to keep his opinion to himself for the time being.

"Not really. I told him the same thing you just told me." John carefully stuck the violin in his bag as he walked and grinned. "Could you give me directions to this DWMA you were thinking about?" Thomas replied in the affirmative and told John exactly how to get to Death City, Nevada. John left the town soon after. That morning, the owners of the clothing store, the food court, and the instrumental shop contacted the police with very similiar cases of robbery. The police department spent a grand total of three months on the case before declaring it cold and moving on. Meanwhile, John and Thomas had arrived at Death City, a place run by an impossible being and populated by improbable humans. John felt that he was going to fit right in.


	2. Imaginary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: My italics did not copy in, so I'll have to come back and edit it, but for now I'm trying to put this up as quickly as possible. I really do apologize, I'm super new to this, so if you have tips on how to add in bold and italics, please let me know!

John and Thomas had only been in Death City, Nevada for two months and John had spent much of that time at the DWMA, the academy topping the massive, spiral style city. When not at the academy, John was either at Thomas's old apartment, which he had broken in to, or wandering the streets of Death City, often having to avoid the students and their partners.

At the current moment, John was sitting high up in the rafters, watching the students of the Crescent Moon EAT class and judging their reactions to others and having to work with different people.

Thomas snorted. "How can you watch them if you're blind?"

I get a general image from what I hear from the objects around me. Kinda like Dare Devil. John thought back to him, not wanting to speak aloud in case someone heard.

"Then why can't I see anything?"

Because you're not trained to pull the sounds in to a coherent picture. I'll teach you sometime. John shifted his attention to a different student that, as far as he could tell, was wearing a two piece suit and an immense feeling of power emanated from him. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to stop the student from having small breakdown over whether or not the zeros on his tests were perfectly symmetrical.

"That would be Death the Kid. If I'm reading your thoughts correctly. Hard to tell, there's a lot of music in the way." John's thoughts were often hard for Thomas to understand, since he never focused on just one thing and there was usually music playing somewhere in the background of his mind.

I believe you're reading them just fine, considering the kid next to him just called him…..Kid. That's an odd name.

"Well, he is named after his father."

So why not Death, Jr? The long silence that followed his question made John think that his mind-sharing partner had not considered this. Then again, Death the Kid sounded much nicer to the ear. Or whatever he listened with within his head. His attention was regained by the students below when one of them, a short and very loud-mouthed individual, started shouting about how his greatness meant he deserved a better score than what he got.

"That one's Black*Star. He's a bit arrogant, but he's a really good fighter. If he only he focused all that talent on collecting souls instead of being the shiniest of the group." Thomas sighed.

Even if he played well with others, he would not be eligible for the job.

"Why not? He's an excellent fighter and really good in a team."

Yeah, but gods and godlings are not eligible. They're too powerful.

"God? Star's not a god. The only god in DC is Death. And Kid too, I suppose."

Ah, right. You can't feel it. Just trust me on this. John carefully stretched, waiting for the bell that would signal lunch for the EAT class.

"Alright class, next lesson will be a dissection, so please bring a notebook for observations," Professor Franken Stein, a mad scientist more than a little obsessed with the dissection and studying of living creatures.

"Professor Stein," one girl said, raising her hand, her long pigtails swinging slightly with the motion. "I don't think we're allowed to do any more dissections after what happened last time." The incident that Maka, the girl with the pigtails, was referring to occurred while John had been 'watching'. In the middle of the lesson on a rare snake-like animal, it was discovered that it possessed an auxiliary heart, which would start up five minutes after death. The time frame was just enough that several arteries had already been cut and exposed for examination. Unfortunately, this meant that a massive spray of blood covered the students when the second heart began beating. It had not been a pleasant day.

"Hmm…perhaps you're right, Ms. Albarn. I will clear it with Lord Death then." The Professor smiled and pretended not to hear the groans of dismay from his students. "Anyway, I must also announce the introduction of school clubs. Since so many students have been requesting them throughout the school year, Lord Death has decided that it would do you no harm to have a few extracurricular activities. Some of the clubs will also offer extra credit and free tutoring, which I must say a few of you need." Here he briefly glanced in the direction of Soul Eater and Black*Star. "That is all." Stein kicked off from his desk and rolled quickly off the raised dais that he taught from, his rolling computer chair taking him right out of the classroom.

"Do you suppose he knew that we still had ten minutes left?" John heard one of the students ask.

"Stein doesn't do that often. Must have had something important to do. I think him and Ms. Marie are gonna have a baby soon."

Probably why he left early. Wanted to check on the mother.

"Hey, you ever have kids? As old as you keep saying you, surely you tried at some point."

No, I don't have any nor have I ever had children. No person would want a child with me. And it doesn't help that my choice in love interests are physically incapable of having children.

"Huh?"

John inwardly sighed. I'm gay, Thomas.

"Oh. Oh! Have you ever thought of adopting?"

Oh for the love of-stop asking me about children! We're here to do research on the DWMA staff and students! Please focus on that! John leaned against the connecting beam behind him and froze when it groaned. Oh shit. Shit shit shit! He turned his ears towards the students and listened for anyone that might have heard his mistake. Only one person seemed to have noticed, Soul. The albino teen had been leaning back in his chair at the time and was now actively searching the rafters for the source of the noise. John would have to move if he didn't want to be found, but moving would possibly make more noise. He had, at most, ten seconds to decide.

Soul's bright red eyes roved over John's hiding spot and kept moving, not noticing the stray bit of his coat sticking out from behind the beam. John smiled in relief and carefully pulled his long jacket around him. That was a might bit too close.

"What are you talking about? You hid before he even had a chance to see you."

True, but I froze. He shouldn't have come as close as he did. I was too distracted. John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He needed to know if it was safe to move, but he could not hear properly enough to tell with all the students using their free time to talk. John would definitely need to pick a different observation spot next time he came up to the school. Think it's safe to move?

"Maybe. If someone does see you, what's the plan?"

I don't know. I think I'll wing it.

"That sounds like an incredibly bad idea." John didn't bother to deny it as he slowly moved around the beam. Just as he got halfway, John felt someone watching him and stopped.

Soul had swept back and forth a couple times after hearing the first noise and was just about to turn back to his friend Kid when he saw something that didn't seem like it should be there. At first, he thought that the lighting in the classroom was a little off, but then the shadow seemed to be moving. That can't be right. Soul watched as the shadow stopped and slowly turned to face him. All that he could make out at first were two softly glowing green orbs, just floating there in the shadow. Eventually, he began to make out the details of what was definitely a man. Beyond the eyes, Soul could see a mask that most of the man's face. He was wearing a button-up, which was tucked in to pair of dark jeans, and a long black jacket that had allowed him to blend in as a part of the dark.

Well shit. Please don't say anything kid, please don't. John tried to give Soul a friendly smile, but his mask probably made it seem a little more sinister than he wanted.

"Hey, Kid, there's someone sitting in the rafters." Soul poked his friend on the shoulder, still staring at John.

"What? That's impossible, we would know if-" Kid cut off as he turned to look at Soul then followed his gaze to where John was still hanging, halfway to another beam. "His mask isn't symmetrical."

"Really? I'm an intruder in your classroom and you focus on the mask?" John asked irritably. "I mean, come on! I am a masked intruder literally hanging over your heads and you focus on the mask!" By then, every student in the classroom had turned to look John, but he didn't care. "You know what? I'm going home! Honestly, it's like no one has anything resembling priorities anymore!" John dropped down on to Kid's desk and jumped down the rows and to the bottom of the amphitheater style class.

"The hell are you doing?" Thomas asked, listening very closely to what was being said.

I'm winging it! Shh! "I'm so not coming back to observe this class ever again!" John wretched open the door as if he was angry and stormed out, only to run face-first in to Stein. "Hmm…I'm guessing that I can't bluff my way out of this."

"That would be a bad idea." The taller man casually started winding the giant screw inserted in his head, the ticking noise causing John's left hand to start towards his pocket. "Now, why not tell us why you were hiding in our class?"

"I refuse on the grounds that you freak me out. I mean, your stitches go over your clothes. What sense does that make? I mean it works for you and everything, but seriously?" John was attempting to edge past the strange man. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll just be heading home." Stein blocked John's way and gave the shorter man his creepiest smile.

"That's a bit rude, don't you think? After all, I asked a simple question and you insulted me."

"Ah, I suppose it is. But it's also rude to block someone's path. And I'm assuming that you're smiling at me in a strange manner, given the way you act." John backed up in to the room and folded his hands behind his back. "Alright, how about I instead leave by my own means?"

"Oh? And how do you plan on getting past my students?" Stein gestured behind the other man, but John had need to look. He knew that the children would be battle ready.

"Any ideas?" Thomas was not prepared to help John, he wasn't even capable of helping out.

One, and it will work. "I opt to give myself in to your custody as a prisoner and will answer any and all questions you have." John smiled.

"Seriously? This is your plan?"

I'm more likely to get away locked up in a cell than in a roomful watchful people. And I'd like to avoid a fight for now.

"Well, that is certainly a surprising decision." Stein motioned towards Maka and Soul, and Kid, Liz, and Patti. Soul, Liz, and Patti were all in their weapon forms, their respective technicians pointing them at John. "You five will escort our masked guest to the dungeons." Stein turned to Star. "Black*Star, I want you and Tsubaki to inform Lord Death about our new prisoner." The seven of them nodded and took up their tasks.

"Thank you for the kindness." John bowed, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Have a nice day, everyone. I'm sure I'll be seeing you all real soon." He waved to the class in general and allowed Kid and Maka to lead him out at weapon-point.


	3. Alone

"So, you two are clearly not going to start a conversation, so I suppose I can." John smiled over his shoulder at his silent escort. Maka and Soul had been holding a silent conversation in the Black Room about what John could possibly be doing at the DWMA and Kid and his partners had just been watching the strange man all the way from the room to the halls of the basement. "Sooooo," John turned around and continued to grin, "What's your name?" He pointed at Maka.

Seeing no harm in answering, Maka told him, "Maka Albarn. This is Soul." She nodded at the red and black scythe in her hands.

"A pleasure to meet you, Maka, Soul." John bowed then turned his attention to Kid. "Et toi, young man?" John's light Scottish accent made the French come out strangely, but it was still well understood by the young death god.

"I am Death the Kid, but I'm sure you already know our names." Kid was troubled by the fact that he hadn't known that the man was in the rafters. John had avoided detection for who knew how long and suddenly he was their prisoner.

"Well, I figure it would be rude to start our first conversation without asking your names. Now, are you going to ignore the two pistols in your hands or are you going to introduce them as well?"

Kid sighed and gestured with his left hand. "This is Liz and this," he gestured with his right, "is Patti."

"Boy, just because I can make a mental image out sound, doesn't mean I can tell which hand you're moving." John shook his head and carefully side-stepped a corner that jutted out slightly from the wall. "And what school has a dungeon? I mean, I know you guys had a super dangerous creature thing hidden under the classes and such, but a fucking dungeon?"

"Asura was not held in the dungeons. He was far below the school, in a room designed to contain his madness." Maka answered, disregarding the man's ranting. It seemed too intentional to be worth any sort of reaction.

"Interesting. May I request something of you two? Or one of you. Really depends if one of you doesn't want to." They had stopped outside a cell, John continuing on a few feet before realizing his escort had come to a halt.

"What do you want?" Maka asked, working on the rusted lock of the old door.

"Well I didn't expect to be made a prisoner today, so I left my violin at my place. I wonder if maybe one of you will get it for me." John stepped forward in to the dungeon and turned to face Maka and Kid. "If you wouldn't mind that is."

"You're a violinist?" Kid looked the other man up and down, taking in his poorly chosen clothes and his blind eyes.

"I learned when I was young. Even now, I still play. Does that question mean you will get my violin?" John was inspecting the cell, still facing Kid, by listening to the vibrations of the walls. "I would be very grateful."

"Fine. Where have you been staying?" Kid took note of the way John's head tilted this way and that, as if he was barely paying attention to the conversation he had started.

"Thomas Vang's old apartment. I rented it not too long after arriving in your city." John suddenly turned his eyes on Kid, focused so intently that the black suited young man thought in that moment that he was lying about being blind. "I imagine you knew the boy, since he was a part of your class."

"Thomas Vang was sent to handle recent Kishin egg activity in Virginia. He was supposed to be back weeks ago…we declared him missing only two days ago." Maka said quietly, gripping Soul's handle tight.

"I was there. It was very moving." The sarcasm evident in John's voice was enough to make Maka, and even Soul, consider taking a swing at the man. "Hardly any of you could recall where he lived. Kid and Soul were the only ones that had held a conversation with him that lasted longer than five minutes. So get as angry as you wish, but don't pretend it's because of me." John had turned his unnerving stare on Maka. "You're angry because you realized that you did not care as much as you like to believe."

"John, you need to calm down. Something's wrong in here!" Thomas spun around, looking about the room he had suddenly found himself in. It was the first time John's mind had taken on a discernible form. "Hello? John!" Thomas called out.

"He can't hear you. Not in here. Don't worry, he will calm soon. He always does." There was a chair set in front of a fireplace and a person seated in it, someone similar in the general shape of John, but completely covered in shadow. "You'll be able to leave when he is finished. In the meantime, stand over there. I don't like company. Unless you're him." The mysterious figure added. "I only tolerate his company."

Out in the real world, John was 'watching' his young escorts, rage turning his mind cloudy. "Even when the two who held the longest conversations with him stood up to say words of encouragement, they were incapable of sharing more than two stories about Thomas." John turned his back on the two students and entered his cell. "One person alone knew him well enough to speak of Thomas's life. One person could have told you where Thomas was likely to go should he ever become so distressed that he needed time away. And that person was the one you were looking for all this time. You should never overlook someone just because they aren't easy to talk to. Sometimes all they need is someone to sit with them." John sat on the floor in the middle of the cell and fell silent; he did not utter another word for the next five minutes, during which time Kid and Maka did their best to get him to explain. After they left, he turned his attention inward and went about the process of calming himself. He didn't expect to get so riled up in defense of Thomas. John wasn't used to getting attached to those whose bodies he assumed control of. He supposed it was because he hated to see others left alone for their differences. He knew exactly where that kind of isolation could lead, and it wasn't good. Thomas? Thomas, are you there? There was a long silence, then Thomas's voice broke through and said something that John found unpleasant.

John, I'm not the only one in your head…there's some guy in a room, just staring at this fire.

Think nothing of it. He's not important. I must apologize for the sudden absence. I…I lost my patience with them. John took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. He rarely lost his patience with anything. John's brother always warned him that if John didn't stay calm and focused, very bad things would follow. John had a vague idea of what happened, but his memories of such events were muddled and filled with shifting shades of black.

It's fine. Just try not to let it happen again. I didn't like the feel of that…that thing. It was much worse than staring down a human with a corrupted soul, and I didn't even look at him properly! Thomas was sure that if he had a body, his heart would be racing. That being hidden in John's mind gave off a powerful aura, but whether good or bad was hard to tell; Thomas was only sure that it was suffocating to be around.

Just trust me. It's better if you just forget about him. There are some things in this universe that are better left ignored. John stood up and made his way over to the bed in the corner. Rather spacious for a dungeon. Hmmm…twenty feet by…thirteen. And a half.

You sure? I don't think the dungeons are that big.

I have trouble converting from the measurements my people use to human lengths. Even so, I'm sure that it's close to twenty feet by thirteen and a half. John laid back on the bed, his legs draped over the side and swinging freely.

Dude…you're short.

Excellent observation, Thomas. What will you deduce next? John retorted sleepily. He hadn't slept for close to two days and it was starting to get to him. Be quiet so I can sleep. He briefly wondered if the dreams would be waiting for him tonight, but the thought passed out of head as quickly as it had formed and he drifted off into the dark of his troubled mind.

The next morning, not too long after dawn, Kid made his way down to the dungeons to check on their new prisoner. He wanted to ask John some questions before his father did, since Lord Death was not always as forthcoming with his information as his son would like. Kid did not expect to find John awake and facing the cell door. "Were you expecting me?" The man was strange enough for the thought to be a legitimate concern of Kid's. For all he knew, John could know the exact whereabouts of all the students currently in the Academy.

John, for his part, had been awake for many hours. He had only managed to sleep for two hours and even that was fitful, full of nightmares and horrible memories. He focused his eyes in the general direction of Kid's voice and smiled. "No. I usually wake up before dawn."

"How can you tell when it's dawn? I thought you were blind."

"I am. But that doesn't mean I can't feel the warmth on my face when the sunlight comes through the little barred window." John stood and turned towards the source of the light that he spoke of.

"…were you able to see once?" Kid wanted to ask why John was here, why he was spying on the students of DWMA, but he did not think that outright asking John would get answers, so maybe getting him to Kid his history would.

"Oh yes, I was. I miss it. The colors and shapes. I actually have a hard time telling what a lot of things are. People are easy enough, but buildings and plants…those are difficult sometimes." John kept his back to Kid, trying to think of the last thing he had seen.

"How long have you been blind?" Kid let his eyes roam the cell, feeling that if he looked at John, he would be intruding on something.

"Oh, a couple...millennia now, I think. It's been a long time, I know that." John sighed and lifted his mask off his face, rubbing his face and neck. "The left eye was the first to go. I wasn't fully blind until about five centuries later."

A couple millennia? How old is he? Kid watched John remove his mask, though he could still only see the other's back. The mask covered almost all of John's face, the bottom corners curving down his cheeks and stopping just short of his jaw. The mask was made of black leather, with swirls cut into it, and fitted for John's face. When John held the mask at his side, Kid could see that the inside had been covered with some form of soft fabric, probably to reduce any possible irritation. "Why do you wear that mask?"

"This?" John waved the mask at Kid, his back still to the young Shinigami. "I wear it for the same reason I became blind in my left eye."

"What reason is that?"

"What do you know of a species called the Ageless?" John began to fiddle with his mask, running a finger along one the swirls, playing with the fabric.

"Not much. They were a race of human-like creatures that through a combination of evolution and genetic manipulation found a way to live forever. They died out many thousands of years ago, though." Kid took in the movements of his arms and thought that John was either nervous or bored.

"You're right, you don't know much." John chuckled. "Well, Ageless were…borrowers after they reached a certain point in technological advancement. They learned how to open dimensional doors and would travel to other points in time using them. They would take tech from all time periods. One thing that was all theirs, though, were their methods of torture. Ageless were incredibly intelligent creatures and very creative, so their ideas of torture were…advanced. Early in their history, there was a king who came up with the idea of marking traitors with…the word itself."

"That doesn't sound too bad." Kid was thinking of a form of tattoo that would be hard to cover up or, at worst, someone being branded.

"It was much worse than you think. The favorite method was to brand, but for special cases, the word was cut into the skin and muscles with a hot knife. It was only done where the word could be covered with a mask. The word was made as large as possible, too, to make sure the victim would never show any part of their face." Kid's eyes darted to the mask that was now lying on the floor where John had suddenly dropped it, and Kid began to piece together what he was hearing.

"You are an Ageless? One that was subjected to…?" It was horrible to hear, but worse to have to voice it.

"Yes. It was painful, and done very slowly. Especially when they got to my eye. And to believe it only left a thin lined word behind." John bent over and picked up his mask, pushing it into place before turning to 'look' at Kid. "My species was full of horrible people, but it had an even share of good ones, too. Now there are only four of us left and our last memories of our home are full of screaming and blood." There was a long pause, during which the two studied each other. Then, "Are you done with your questions or do you want to make me relive more of my pain?" Kid could only nod as he backed away from the cell. He hadn't thought anything could be worse than having watched the world slowly descend into madness, but now he saw he was wrong. At least he still had a world.


	4. Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Oh gosh, looking back at this fic, the writing was very poorly done. Hopefully I did better later on.

Kid sat in his room at Death Mansion, mulling over his conversation with John and considering what he had learned. Kid knew that the strange man had been telling the truth, there was no way of faking that kind of pain, but what he couldn't understand is why John had told him so much. Kid had also left without asking any of the questions he'd really wanted to know, which meant that he was unlikely to learn of John's reasons for being at the school, unless his father decided to share that information. At least it was a Saturday, meaning Kid had time to himself to find a different means of collecting info. A trip to Thomas's old apartment might prove useful. "Liz, Patti, I'm heading out for a bit!" Kid called out as he headed for the door.

"And just where are you off to on a Saturday?" Liz poked her head around a corner, watching Kid with only slightly suspicious eyes.

"I did say I would get John's violin from Thomas's apartment." Kid was glad he remembered that, since he didn't quite want to pull Liz and Patti into his investigation. That and Liz was likely to complain about him getting too involved in something his father should handle.

"Alright, just spend too long out. We did make plans with the rest of the gang for today." Liz disappeared back into her room. Kid nodded to himself, glad that she had reminded him of their outing with their friends. He would definitely need to be quick.

An hour later and all Kid had to show for his investigation of Thomas's apartment was John's violin and the bow that went with it. At least, those were the only things that seemed to belong to John. The books on the shelves would hardly be of any use to him and the clothes in the closet had clearly not been worn, nor could they be worn, by John. "I suppose I will just have to talk to him again." That was not something Kid looked forward to. He didn't want the conversation to go as it did earlier. Sighing, Kid collected the violin and bow and set out, after straightening a slightly off-center picture on the wall next to the door.

"Kid? What are you doing here?" Maka was standing right outside the door, and had clearly been about to enter when Kid exited.

"Oh, I came for John's violin. What about you?" Kid nodded at Soul, who was standing a little behind his meister.

"We were here for the same thing. I guess you got up a little earlier than us." Maka backed up so Kid could move out of the doorway. "How'd you get in, anyway?"

"My father gets a copy of the keys to missing students' apartments." Kid replied, flashing the key at them. "How did you two plan on entering?"

"We thought there would be a key under the matt or on top of the doorframe." Soul answered, arms behind his head and gazing up at the sky. "We do that, and I'm fairly certain you have an extra key `hidden somewhere that doesn't mess with your house's symmetry."

Kid decided not to inform them that he did, in fact, hide his extra key in a way that did not compromise the symmetry of his home. "Well, you two are welcome to join me in returning John's violin." He didn't think that they would want to accompany him and was a little surprised when they said yes. Setting off for the school, Kid wondered how he would question John with Maka and Soul present.

Meanwhile, John was still sitting in his cell, considering what he had told Kid. John, was what you told Kid true? All that stuff about the Ageless?

Yes, Thomas, it was. I don't know why I told him. Truthfully, he didn't know. It wasn't something he normally talked about, not even with his brother. Reliving those days was what caused most of his nightmares and some of his hallucinations.

You alright, man? Thomas not sure what to do. He had just learned that the man who had taken control of his body was one of the last of his kind.

I…think so. It's been a while since I talked about that. Guess I just needed to let go of that a bit and he happened to hit the right button. John felt a little calmer in his mind after telling Kid about himself. A little about himself, anyway.

Ok. Just try to keep a level head from now on, please. I don't like the idea of me going back in that room.

Don't worry, I'm unlikely to lose it again. John sighed and opened his eyes to 'look' at his visitors. "Hey there, Professor Creepy." John smiled in the general direction of Professor Stein. "Coming to ask me a few questions? Shouldn't you be wearing a trilby and carrying a notebook? Where's the cameraman?" John chuckled to himself, glad that it wasn't a giggle. After the conversation earlier that morning, he was not so sure that he could handle the embarrassment that would follow.

"Jokes so early in the morning, you're just as bad as my students." Stein unlocked the cell door. "Lord Death wants to speak with you."

"Oh my, speaking with a lord. And I'm not even dressed properly for the occasion, how frightful." John laughed again, getting up and following Stein through the hallways. The mad professor simply ignored the seemingly younger man and led him to the Death Room.

Lord Death stood in front of his mirror, his back to the long walkway under the guillotine arches, and waited until Stein and John were on the dais with him to turn towards John. "Heeey, how ya doing?" Death asked in his squeaky voice, raising his ridiculously large hand in greeting.

"Doing alright. Can't say-whoa!" John raised his left own just in time to block Lord Death's 'Reaper Chop', which was aimed at his head. The force traveled through John's body and cracked the ground beneath him. "I guess I can claim that the living conditions are less than appealing, since my host just assaulted me." John grinned at Death's masked face, his own mask slightly askew.

"You really are Ageless. Interesting. The Shinigami thought you had all died." Lord Death pulled back, allowing John to adjust his mask. "How is it that you made your way to my school?"

"Well, I kinda got born into this dimension. I was buried inside Thomas Vang's soul. Tell you what, not pleasant to experience puberty through someone else. Especially when they're straight. The thoughts in his head." John faked a shudder and grinned. "Was the chop really necessary? You could have asked if I was Ageless."

"True, but people do lie quite often. How did you survive? We heard that the planet itself had been destroyed, along with every living thing on it."

John considered the question, an odd gleam in his unseeing eyes. "Four survived. No more and no less. One was locked away in a cage of light, another rode the solar winds to a barren planet, and my brother and myself...we now travel the dimensional pathways left to us by our people." John answered quietly, the memory of all that happened just below the surface.

"That does not answer the question." Stein commented.

"True. The question was: How did I survive. I do not believe I did. I am different from other Ageless. I was for many centuries before we they fell. But the others survived because they were prepared." John was edging toward dangerous territory. If he continued, he might just trigger something, and then he would break.

"Why were they prepared?" Stein turned his head to look at John, his left hand idly turning the screw in his head.

"I no longer wish to discuss this." John could feel it, the terror trying to push its way in and he was responding to it. "You want to know why I am here, yes?" Lord Death waited for John to explain himself. "I am here to find a Master of Fighters. I was supposed to do so during my last life, but I kinda got thrown on a rebar before I could find one."

"Last life? I was under the impression the Ageless lived one life, without aging." Death tilted his head to one side.

"Yes, most do. Usually, Ageless will die from more violent means, the most common being suicide. An Ageless who has had their fill of life would commit...the act and pass on. It was the preferred way to go." John reached into one of his pockets and began to mess with his Watch.

"What is a Master?" Stein had picked up on the way John had said the word and thought that it would be better to follow that line of questioning.

"Masters are my own idea. They are people that I have picked to be the leaders of their field, or occupation. They act as guides, leaders, and supply line operators. They are people with some exceptional skill, but a dose of humility is needed as well. I have picked each of them myself. At least, I picked the first Masters. After they have served a certain amount of time, the Master will choose an apprentice, who will take over once they are ready. I am a Master myself, actually." John smiled, relaxing enough to pull his hand from his pocket.

"And you are the Master of...?" Stein was beginning to understand why John was at DWMA, but he would need to confirm it somehow.

"I am the Master of Thieves, John Cooper." John swept into a low bow as he introduced himself by title and name. "At your service."

Kid, Maka, and Soul arrived at John's cell not five minutes after Stein had led the man to the Death Room. Unsure where they would him, Kid placed John's violin on the bed and led the small group back outside so they could meet up with the rest of their friends.

"I wonder what type of music John plays on his violin." Soul suddenly commented, surprising Maka.

"Why would that be important?" Maka wasn't much of a music person, which is to say she liked listening to it, but couldn't even begin to understand how to play it.

"You can tell a lot about a person by what kind of music they play, more than by what they listen to. Especially if you hear them when they think no one is around." Soul responded slowly, his eyes on the sky.

"Are you saying you could tell what kind of personality John has by listening to what he would play for no one else but himself?" Kid looked over at Soul.

"Yeah. It's easy for a musician to do it, but others, like tiny tits over here, probably couldn't do it." Soul only had a second to react, and it was not nearly enough time, before Maka calmly slammed a book into his head, accompanied with the expected phrase: "Maka chop."

"You know, one day you're going to kill him doing that." Kid commented, watching as Soul held his head in a protective manner.

"No, he's too thick headed for that." Maka replied, the book already disappeared into whatever secret pocket that held it. Kid sometimes thought Maka actually had magical powers and she just did not know it. "Besides, it's what he gets for being such a pervert, always bringing breasts into the conversation." Kid just nodded in agreement, thinking anything else would earn him a book to the skull.

"So, are we headed to the park today or out to the movies?" Soul asked, now walking on the other side of Kid.

"I think Liz and Patti would rather go to the movies, but Black*Star will insist on going to the park for basketball." Kid supplied.

"We've done nothing but play basketball for the last three weeks; movies would be a nice change of pace." Maka said, stopping with Kid and Soul outside Black*Star's apartment. "Is Black*Star even home?" Her question was answered almost immediately when the bluenette burst out of his house with all the usual energy he possessed.

"Black*Star is soooo ready for a day with his buddies!" The ninja crowed, standing beside Soul.

"Where's Tsubaki?" Kid asked.

"She was asked to help with something up at the school, I think." Black*Star shrugged and Kid sighed, knowing that it was unlikely the ninja had paid any attention to Tsubaki telling him where she would be for the day. Unless it genuinely affected him, Black*Star tended to zone out and fantasize about his goal of surpassing God.

"Well, that just leaves Liz and Patti." The walk to Kid's place was a short one and once they had picked up the sisters, they all decided that a movie would be a good way to spend the day. Black*Star, as predicted, protested, but eventually backed down when promised his favorite movie theater snack: anything with chocolate.

A little over two hours later, the group of friends exited the theater. Happily discussing the movie they had seen, Double Risk, an action movie about a spec ops mission gone wrong, they did not notice the two people that were passing in front of the theater until the group was almost on top of them. And then it was only because one of them gave a greeting when he was close enough.

"Bonsoir, Death the Kid." John's soft Scottish accent slightly mangled the French he spoke, but it was still clearly understood by the young death god and his friends. "Funny, Tsubaki was just talking about you all. My apologies for delaying her arrival for this outing." He smiled and Tsubaki waved at her friends from next to him.

"What are you doing with him, Tsubaki?" Kid ignored John, not sure if he could look the man in the eye after their conversation that morning.

"Professor Stein asked me to show Mr. Cooper around Death City before he starts his new job," answered Tsubaki, her pony tail swaying slightly as she turned to face Kid.

"Job? But he was our prisoner less than twelve hours ago, what could he possibly do? Spy for us?" Maka interjected.

John chuckled and smiled. "I'm you're new gym teacher apparently. Lord Death is a funny one, making a blind man the physical education instructor." John seemed as if he was watching Kid, but since he was blind, it was hard to tell just what John's attention was on.

"My father did what?" Kid snapped his eyes to John's then quickly looked a little to the side.

"Your father appointed me the new gym teacher. Or, more accurately, the new combat instructor. The other guy uh...?" John swung his head in Tsubaki's direction, seemingly embarrassed at forgetting a fellow teacher's name.

"Sid." She supplied.

"That's it! Yes, Sid was moved to the gym stuff related more to keeping you in shape, instead of honing your fighting skills." John nodded to himself. "Wait, if Sid is the blue guy, who was the odd redhead?"

"That was the Death Scythe, Spirit Albarn." Tsubaki answered.

"Right, Maka's dad. And the really nice woman that almost hit me over the head? That was uh...Marie?" When Tsubaki nodded, John's smile grew larger. "Not too bad. One out of three is better than I normally do. You know, I can just return to the school, if you want to hang out with your friends, Tsubaki." John's left hand had made its way into his pocket for the second time that day, caressing the slightly dented metal surface of his Watch. He was nervously swinging his head this way and that, listening to the growing evening crowd.

Tsubaki, who took more notice than the others of John's reaction to the groups of people arriving, nodded. "If you don't mind going back by yourself."

"I can go with him." Kid said, having noted John's actions as well and thinking that he wouldn't have a better chance to talk to the man, even with the thought of that conversation in his mind.

"Thank you, Kid." John did not seem to particularly care one way or another, so long as he could get away from the theater. He turned to face the way he had walked with Tsubaki and began moving, his stride fast enough that Kid had to jog to catch up to John. The two walked together for a few blocks in silence, John still tense from the crowd.

"Why are you here?" Kid asked suddenly, hoping to catch John off guard.

"I imagine because my father couldn't keep it in his pants." John responded quickly, as if he had been waiting for the question.

Kid's right eye twitched at the reply, for he had not only failed in getting a real answer, but had also gotten the kind of sarcastic comeback that showed the other man had been prepared. "I meant, why are you at this school?"

"I know what you meant. You will find out with the rest of the class on Monday. And I expect you to be on time." John grinned, glancing over at Kid. "Which is rather hypocritical of me to say, since I was hardly ever on time for anything when I was in school."

After another long pause, Kid said, "I apologize for what happened this morning. I didn't mean to make you relive something painful." Kid couldn't get past what he had probably done to the man. He'd seen what the war with Asura had done to some of the students and he knew that losing an entire planet, being the last of your kind, had to be far worst.

"It is nothing I have not experienced before. I have had a long time to get used to this life, and a little conversation about the past will break me so easily." John knew that what he said was a lie, but he did not need Kid to know that, to pry deeper and push him over the edge. "I...I do appreciate the apology, though. It is more than most have given me for prying. Is this why you wanted to walk me to current place of residence? Not being the gentleman, but the interrogator instead?" John smiled to show he was joking, but was not surprised when Kid replied in the affirmative.

"I suppose my father has already questioned you to his satisfaction about your business here, so I don't know why I bothered."

"I imagine it was because you don't think your father sees you as an adult. That is how I felt with my father. However, the day he died remains one of the saddest of my life." John stopped in front of the main doors of the DWMA, surprised that they had arrived so quickly. "I find the way from here. Thank you, both for the apology and walking with me. I don't take to crowds very well."

"You're welcome, John. If you are a teacher, why are you returning to the dungeons?" Kid was ready to head home, but John remaining in the school's basement strange and, for some reason, a little sad.

"I don't...feel right remaining in Thomas's home now. Before, I had no choice. All of the money I have goes into a fund. Two, actually, but I have not decided what I will do with that just yet." John turned during his reply, his head titled up like he was regarding the sky. Or trying to remember what it looked like. "Good day, Kid. Or night. Don't be late on Monday." John turned quickly and walked in to the school, pushing the doors open and continuing down the hallway, the doors closing by themselves and the strange man swallowed by the darkness of the halls.


	5. X-Files Theme

Monday afternoon and the second to last period of the day, John was holding his Watch up to his ear and listening to the ticking as his students slowly trickled in through the doors of the gym. When the three-toned bell signaled the beginning of class, John stood up from his fold-up chair and moved to stand in front of his class. "Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon," came a few mumbled replies, most of the students just regarding their new teacher with either blank or curious stares. The curious stares were mainly from those who had actually talked to him prior.

"Well, that was a poor excuse of a greeting. Doesn't matter though, because I clearly am not going to get on your good side by making you repeat everything."

"Why are you here? I thought Sid was the P.E. teacher." One kid, with a mostly bald head with the exception of two strange spikes of hair, asked from the front of the group.

"He is. What's your name?" John was, of course, incapable of studying the roster and was reliant on having the students give him their proper names.

"I'm Ox Ford." The boy responded in a way that suggested he was top dog.

"Ox Ford? I went to that school. Got kicked out, if I remember right." John added in a mutter, though Maka noticed it.

"How did you get kicked out of Oxford?" There were any number of things that Maka could think of that the man would probably do and be caught doing.

"Making out with someone in a closet when we should've been in class. Shame, too, he was cute." John shrugged and, before he could be interrupted again, whistled loud enough to cause his students to wince. "Now, to answer the original question in depth: Sid is your physical education teacher, but I am your newly appointed combat instructor, given that Stein is sometimes a little too focused on dissection to properly teach." That no one could argue about, since even Stein's regular book lessons often took a...medical turn.

"But you were a prisoner of the DWMA yesterday." A pink haired girl near the middle of the group spoke.

"Yes I was, and now I'm your teacher. Your name would be?"

"Kim Diehl, Meister of Jackie Dupré, Lantern Demon weapon." Kim answered. John knew which one was Jackie, since she was often the one to remind Kim of what she needed to get done in class.

"Alright then. Now, any questions?" Most of the students' hands rose. "Any questions that don't have to do with how I got the job?" He did not need his vision to know that many of the hands dropped. "Who's left?"

"Me, and I want to know why they wouldn't give the job to someone as amazing as Black*Star!" The bluenette, shouting unnecessarily, almost seemed offended that he had been passed up.

"As I understand it, you have the worst grade in all of school, with the exception of Kid. But he has OCD that can cause him to faint, I've heard. What's your excuse?" John knew that he'd asked the wrong question when Black*Star launched into a tirade about just how 'amazingly awesome and limitless' his powers were and how he 'didn't have the time to answer ridiculous questions' when he could be out stopping more evil humans. Midway through one sentence, John became annoyed and quickly moved behind the blue-haired ninja and chopped at the base of his skull, instantly rendering him unconscious. "What," he said to the quiet room, "I wasn't the only thinking it. I just acted on the thought."  
"Yeah, but won't he be pissed when he wakes up?" Another kid, this one with two little girls by his side, asked.

"Most likely, but it's not a problem I have to deal with right now. Moving on!" John clapped his hands and smiled. "Who wants to do an obstacle course?" The students later found that actually answering John's questions was just as bad as complaining about the exercises he set, both of which happened that first class.

One girl foolishly responded with a no when John asked who wanted to do the obstacle course. He gave her an extra two laps through the course and the duty of taking Black*Star to the nurse's office if he did not wake up within half an hour. Another student, this time a guy, complained halfway through his first lap that the course was too hard. The course, made up of random stacks of pallets, buckets clearly taken from janitor closets, and a few desks that other teachers were likely looking for at that moment, was rearranged after every student went and the next up would have to wear a blindfold as the course was changed. The boy had gotten one that mostly involved jumping over and sliding under the objects in his path; and he was kept from leaving the path with well placed, and likely taken from the same closets as the buckets, ladders that rested like railings along the tops of the desks and stacked buckets. The boy was ordered to do the course an extra two times like the girl, but refused.

"Oh? Why's that?" John could understand if it was a medical problem, but if the kid was slacking off, he would have to crack down on it.

"I can't do it, teach! This is too hard!" The kid whined, sitting down on the floor and wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.

"Really now? And what if I could prove that it's really not that difficult?" John smiled patiently, but inside he wanted to strangle himself for accepting Lord Death's offer.

Yeah, well, we didn't exactly have a better option, John. Thomas had been quiet all day, so hearing his voice was enough to make John twitch.

Shit! Don't do that while I'm in the middle of a lesson! "You can pick anyone in the gym to run the obstacle course. If they fail to complete it, you and those who haven't done it are exempt." The boy's face brightened then quickly fell when John added, "However, if they make it through without a problem, you and everyone after you will have to it two more times with handicap."

The kid hesitated, opened his mouth, and closed it again. Finally, "I'll take that deal if you're the one who goes through it, teach."

John blinked and 'stared' at the boy. "What is your name?"

"Kenneth Graves." The boy answered right away and John could hear the smirk in his voice. Kenneth seemed, to John, to be one of those kids that thought that gym teachers taught things that they themselves could not or would not do. "Shame you're too young for Vegas." John turned away from his student and faced the obstacle course. Rolling his shoulders, John slipped off his shoes and nudged them to the side.

Why did you take off your shoes? Thomas had gotten a bit better at interpreting the sensations that echoed into the part of John's mind that he occupied, but that did not mean that he knew what John was thinking.

They're nice shoes. I don't want to scuff them. John smiled and crouched down at the starting point of the course. "You all get five minutes to switch the obstacle into something more difficult." John remained in his spot as the sounds of scraping desks and clanging buckets filled the air. Last in place were the pseudo-rails acting as the boundary. John's hearing told him that his students had created a straight, and very narrow, course that led from where he crouched to the other end of the gym, a point at the same distance from the wall that he was: five feet. It was an impressive set up involving not only jumps and slides, but also corners made from desks jutting into the course.

"All done, teach," Kenneth announced, his smirk still in place. That young man must have only recently been picked up by the DWMA, because he has one hell of an attitude that I just haven't observed in the students that have been here for years.

Yeah, he wasn't around when I was here. Thomas had been at the DWMA for only three years, but respect was something one learned quickly when dealing with the kind of people that were their teachers. Or, as it was with Stein, a combination of respect and a lack of desire to engage the man in a conversation that was anything but polite. Are you planning to teach him a lesson?

Oh, most definitely. "Thank you, Kenneth." John smiled again and actually winced when it pulled at the part of his face covered by the mask. He had smiled wide enough to pull at that scar; he was undoubtedly enjoying himself far too much. Just as he was about to start he caught a whispered sentence to Maka from Kenneth: "Bet twenty bucks that he doesn't make it." John was surprised by her response.

Go! John needed no further urging and began racing down the obstacle course. Coming to the first of the desks, John spun around its corner with all the grace of a ballerina. Next came something similar to a hurdle, made with a leftover ladder. Jumping the ladder would have been easy, but not nearly as exciting as the homerun-style slide that he used to get under it, followed by a front flip powered by the momentum from his slide, which launched him over two more obstacles. He would question the physics behind that later. Not yet halfway through the course and John knew what moves he would use and where he would execute them. His plan would have been more complicated if Kenneth had thought to add a handicap. John had been a little surprised that Kenneth hadn't introduced a handicap, since he had the impression that the young man was actually rather intelligent. Granted, he was also a bit of an annoying little shit. Cheating a little, John landed on top of another desk, his socks-only feet making a soft whump on the hard surface, and pushed off into jump that turned into another slide which then became a spiraling jump between two parallel ladders with an approximate clearance of two feet, making it a tight squeeze for John despite his small size.

The rest of the course passed with relative ease, but its ease made it no less entertaining for John and when he skidded to stop at the end, turning to face what he was sure were stunned and shocked students, he smiled like an idiot and rather than make Kenneth, and the students after him, run the punishment laps, John declared, "You all do not have to run the course today on account of how much fun I had running it!" He continued to grin as he once again crushed Kenneth's hopes. "You get detention, though, smartass."

"But...but you said that it was a shame I had…"

"That you had never been to Vegas? Well yeah. Vegas would have made a fortune off you." John stretched his arms above his head as he walked back over to his shoes. His grin only widened when he heard Maka claim the ten foolishly bet dollars from Kenneth. "Well, class is over. Have a nice day." Just as Soul was about to inform their new teacher that the bell had not yet rung, it did just that, the deep clanging startling all of John's students. "Better hurry to your last class. I heard that Stein has something special for you." John laughed as the class left the gym as quick as they could manage without tripping over themselves, not overly eager to be late on one of Professor Stein's 'special project' days, which could range from Soul Resonance moves to the dissection of a rare and/or dangerous animal. On the dissection days, when he was at his most unstable, Professor Stein would often employ any latecomers as his assistants and the cleaning crew.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

Kid, Maka, Soul, Black*Star, Tsubaki, Liz, and Patti walked down the main street, Kid and Soul covered in the bodily fluids of the creature that Prof. Stein had had on his operating table earlier. They walked in silence for four or five blocks before Maka broke the quiet spell. "The way he moved through that course was impressive. I know it was an easy one, but he still breezed through it as if he was just walking from one end of the gym to the other."

Kid nodded in response. "It was unnecessarily impressive. I could almost see the map he had made in his head. Instead of marveling at his skill, I would like to know how he did it." Kid slid his hands into pocket, looking down at the dark gray cobblestone street beneath his feet and tracing the lines of lighter gray mortar that ran between the stones.

"What do you mean, Kid?" Liz asked from the rear, where she was helping Patti haul a massive paper giraffe that had cost Stein several packages of printer paper.

"I mean that John is blind, so how was he able to move through that course? How was he able to get in and out of the DWMA without being caught? He said he had been doing it for months, so why did no one spot him?" Kid watched his feet as he walked, the symmetrically tied laces making it easier to concentrate.

"I suppose those are interesting questions. We could always find out." Maka suggested, stopping briefly to help Liz and Patti get the giraffe's legs over a large puddle. "Hey Kid, when was the last time it rained in D.C.?" Being in the middle of a desert in Arizona, rain was not a frequent occurrence and when it did make an appearance, it was usually a storm.

"Not for a couple weeks, why?" Kid had stepped right over the puddle, barely registering its presence until now.

"This puddle is somewhere it shouldn't be." Just as soon as she finished speaking a drop of water plopped right in the middle of the puddle. Looking up, everyone noted that there was not a cloud in the sky or anything else that might explain the odd water.

"Have to admit, that is a little weird, but it's just a puddle." Black*Star stated, scratching his nose.

"A puddle with no visible source, honestly, you're not that much of an idiot, are you?" A familiar voice asked from behind the group.

"John, insulting Black*Star after knocking him out isn't a very good idea." Kid said, turning to see their new teacher examining the puddle.

"Nor is it very nice." Tsubaki added.

"No one ever accused me of being nice." John replied, almost completely ignoring the group of friends as he pulled a pocket watch out of an inner pocket of his jacket and held it up to his ear. "Huh. Fixed point. Alright then, it should be fine where it is." He shrugged and started walking back towards the school.

"John, what's a fixed point?" Maka asked.

"Depends, do you want the mathematics definition or mine?" John chuckled, stopped, and turned to the scythe meister. "Usually when I say fixed point, I'm referring to a dimensional portal that does not move from the place where it opened. It seems that this one recently opened and some several thousand feet up. It won't be above DC for more than a few hours. Have a pleasant day, my students." John waved as he turned back to the school, humming quietly as he left them to contemplate what he had just said.

"Maka, did you understand what he was talking about?" Black*Star asked. Maka did not answer, instead she was looking up at the sky, at a point not visible to her, but was supposedly the source of the puddle. "Ooookay. Kid, did you get it?" Black*Star turned to his friend only to find that he was no longer there. In fact, Kid, Liz, and Patti had all disappeared, leaving the others behind.

Back at the school, John was just about to open the front doors and slip inside when he heard someone call out his name. Turning and leaning back against the doors, John waited for whoever was trying to get his attention.

"John," Kid said, stopping in front of the man, "I have a few questions for you."

"Any chance you're gonna ask about tomorrow's activity for class?" John questioned boredly.

"No. This is-"

"Oh good, cause I haven't decided on something yet. Don't know if I want to do something with rope climbing or weapon exercises. Which do you think would be better?" John tilted his head in Kid's direction, seemingly serious about getting his opinion.

"I don't believe that I am qualified to answer that, but this isn't-"

"Hmm...you're right. I guess I'll have to ask Stein next time I see him. Not that that would be pleasant, I get the idea he doesn't like me. Anyway, have fun with your friends. I have some planning to take care of and then a report on everyone's performance during the obstacle course. Oh, and I should probably write up that Kenneth kid." John opened the door behind him and walked into the school, still carrying on the conversation as if Kid was right behind him, closing the door before the young Shinigami could follow.

"He doesn't seem all that concerned with his teaching duties." Liz commented after a moment. "Hey, Kid, what did you wanna ask him anyway?"

"I kinda wanna know why he wears that mask." Patti chimed in before Kid could answer. "It's kinda weird, don't ya think?"

"As weird as a teacher with stitches all over his face?" Liz asked, turning towards her sister.

Kid tuned them out as he reached out and pulled open the school doors, making sure that the double doors were equally spaced as they moved. The sisters, so used to following behind Kid in public areas, didn't question him as he led the way inside and instead continued their conversation, which had turned to speculating about what John was hiding under his mask. The choices ranged from a horrible disfigurement to dramatic flair, the discussion heading down some odd places as Kid searched the academy for the subject of the debate. Opening doors to empty classrooms and, not so empty, offices. Many times, Kid had to back out of a room, offering apologies to indignant and somewhat confused occupants. The idea to check the dungeon did not occur to Kid until nearly half an hour had passed and Liz wondered aloud about John's living conditions down in his cell and what he would do if he needed to shower. The mask discussion had led to...different places, to say the least.

"Do the cells even have toilets? I don't remember if Crona mentioned it." Patti said, trailing her hands along the stone walls of the dungeon beneath the school. "Actually, Crona didn't mention mucha anything."

Just as Kid was about to inform the younger of the two siblings that the larger cells did, in fact, have toilets, everything went dark. Liz screamed and Patti laughed at her sister for, probably, wetting herself.


	6. Had A Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: I swear, this reads like I wrote it when I was 14. Oh god, this is bad. And of course, again the italics didn't paste in.

"Liz, Patti, stay close." Kid spoke calmly as he reached out with his hands, attempting to feel for the walls that he was sure were close by, but everywhere he turned, no matter how far he went, he couldn't feel anything, much less a stone wall.

"I must ask that you stop moving for a moment. You're messing with the map." A slightly distorted, deep voice, which reminded Kid of a large waterfall, filled the space around him and the sisters. "I apologize for catching you within my reach. I had no idea anyone else was down here." Slowly, the darkness surrounding the three partners lifted and the sounds of footsteps approaching them echoed off the walls. "So, who's decided to come down for a visit?" The owner of the voice stepped around the corner in front of the small group, stopping to lean against the wall.

"John?" Kid asked. "What was that? What did you do?"

"John?" The green-eyed man titled his head slightly to the side and crossed his arms over his chest, his jacket rustling against him from the movement. "Ohh, you mean the ves-ahem, the man who has recently become your teacher. I am not John." He paused to brush something off jeans and smooth a winkle in his dress shirt. "Most refer to me as the Master of Shadows, but you are welcome to call me Shade. Sounds far less formal, don't you think?" John, or rather, Shade smiled.

"Hey, sis, is this like a split personality thing?" Patti asked loudly, turning to her, now mortified at her sister's choice of words and volume, elder sibling.

"Patti! You can't go and say something like that about a teacher! Not in front of them, anyway." Liz added quietly.

"She is correct, in a way. I am a separate personality, after all." Shade chuckled, rolling up his right sleeve to check a wristwatch. "Oh, time's almost up. I only get the body for another seven minutes." Shade sighed and turned away, waving at Kid as he began to walk. "Catch you another time, eh?" The man turned the corner and before Kid could rush after him, Shade's footsteps disappeared.

"He can't have…" Kid rounded the same bend in the hallway and discovered, much to his surprise, that Shade had indeed disappeared without trace. "Interesting talents." He muttered, continuing down the hall.

"Kid, what are you doing?" Liz called, refusing to move further into the dungeon despite Patti happily following behind their meister. "I don't think we should follow him."

"I still need answers and John is the only person who is likely to give them to me, if I can obtain a straight response to my questions. Now come along. I'm sure John would not attempt to hurt you." Kid replied over his shoulder, his stride unbreaking and insistent.

"Maybe not him, but what about that Shade guy?" Liz finally began moving, albeit a little slowly.

"I don't think he cared very much about us. And for all we know, that was John trying to get us to leave him alone." Kid reassured her, finally stopping to allow Liz to catch up.

"Yeah, so stop bein' a chicken, Liz." Patti said playfully.

"I'm not scared. I'm just being...reasonable. John didn't want to answer any questions and I think we should respect that." Liz shot back, nodding to herself.

"If it was anyone else, I would be attempting a different method, but I don't know how to approach John." Kid explained, starting back down the hallway now that he was sure Liz would follow.

"Then why not wait until you do know?" Liz asked, hugging herself.

"Because I have a feeling that this cannot wait that long. It would take months at best for me to understand John, years at worst." Kid stopped outside a cell door and peered inside. "Not here. Where else could he be?"

"Well, what else is down here?" Liz asked, staying well away from the door.

Kid thought for a moment, pacing in the hallway, then came to a stop in front of Patti. "Will you two wait here for a moment? There is a room I need to check."

"We can go with you. If Liz isn't too scared." Patti grinned, earning herself a glare from her older sister.

"Normally I would have to ask for father's permission before entering the area in question, but since I need to sure that John isn't in there right now, I cannot wait for father to decide. I don't want you two in trouble as well if I am caught." Kid started walking again, this time with clear purpose, down the hall.

"Well alright, but what if he comes back here before you find him?" Liz called to her meister.

"Tell him that I wish to speak with him." Kid called back before turning a corner and leaving their sight.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

John listened as Kid walked into the room, his footsteps, no matter how quiet they were to him, acting like a beacon to the green-eyed man. "You know, if I'm not supposed to be in here, I wonder if you are." John chuckled, standing in full view of the young Shinigami. "So Kid, what did you want to me earlier? I was a little preoccupied." The man 'looked' over his shoulder and smiled, but only slightly.

"I wanted to ask you a few questions about why you came to DWMA." Kid answered, moving to stand beside his teacher. John had been standing in front of one of the machines in the vault Death built in the dungeons beneath the school. The device was Eibon's Eternal Spring, a Demon Tool capable of allowing a machine to run without fuel or maintenance for eternity.

"A friend of mine built something similar to that." John said, pointing at the contraption. "Funnily enough, he also called it a spring. Oh, you can ask your questions. I don't mind." John shrugged and moved away from the machine.

"Why did you come to the school?" Kid followed John further into the room, using the light from the open door to find his way.

"The official, or your father's, reason is that I was hired to teach the students advanced combat moves in the event something like Asura crops up. The unofficial, and real, reason is that I trying to find someone to fill a position that was recently created in an organization that I founded a very long time ago." John paused for the briefest moment in front of a massive painting then kept moving, barely sparing it a glance or even a twitch of his ears.

"What organization?" Kid tried to move in front of the man, but was easily sidestepped as John moved in another direction entirely, so fluid was the motion that it appeared to have been his plan all along.

"You will have to ask your father that. I am not allowed to say so long as I work here." John stopped in front a small cube that resembled, in his mind's eye, a Rubik's cube.

"Will my father even answer me?" Kid tried to grab John's arm and met only air as John moved again, not even appearing to notice the hand that had just missed him.

"Isn't that a question you should ask yourself? Not that it's my business." John replied, now making his way back to the door. "Well, I am feeling tired, so if you don't mind."

"I do mind! You have given me no real answers!" Kid made a grab for John's jacket and just barely managed to snag the end. And then...the jacket was gone, along with John.

"It wasn't a request." John said from behind Kid, surprising the younger man. "We are done for now, Little Shinigami." John stepped around Kid and once again headed for the door. "The key will be in one of the sconces outside. Be sure to lock it before you leave, mm?" John chuckled and left Kid standing in the semi-dark room, even more confused about the man that had become his teacher than when he started asking questions.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

Meanwhile, in the home of the witches, Eruka Frog ran through the streets, her polka-dot dress fluttering, her orange frog hat held to her head with one hand, the other hand holding a single sheet of paper. She flew down one road and sprinted across another in her desperate need to reach the Witch Queen, Maba.

Bursting through the door to the Witch Assembly, the same building the Witch Court is held in, Eruka skidded to a stop in the center of the room, out of breath and bent over. "Queen...Maba! I have...a... report...you should see!" She waved the paper in her hand frantically. "It's...from the...Death Scythe over...North America!" When another witch took the paper from the frog themed young woman, she gratefully collapsed on the floor as the document was handed from one member of the assembly to another, carefully read by each and then reread to be sure of what they were seeing.

"Is this accurate? Have you checked the calculations?" One aged witch demanded of Eruka, standing up so quick that her chair almost fell over.

"Yes, ma'am! I checked them three times before heading here!" Eruka had dealt with a lot in the last few years and hadn't honestly thought much could top the Kishin incident, but what was written in the report had the potential to be so much worse. If the Kishin were to be compared to any disaster, it would be Chernobyl, but what they had all just learned, the resulting crisis would be many times more disastrous, so much more terrifying, that even their little community in its sealed off dimension would likely be wiped out. "We are so fucked."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

"Vessel, we need to speak." The gravelly voice was very familiar to John, as was the room he suddenly found himself in.

"Was pulling me really necessary? You could have just asked." John glanced around the room, something he could not do in the real world. There were more mirrors on the walls than when he last visited and it only served to remind him of why they were up in the first place. "You've added some more...decorations, I see."

"My choice of interior ornamentation can wait for a different conversation at another time. For now, I need to speak to you and you will listen. Understood?" The man seated across from John fixed his eyes, if they could be called that, on his vessel.

"Again, if you wanted to talk, a simple request is all that you would have needed." John turned his attention to the other man. "After all, I can't possibly ignore you, can I, Third?"

"No, you cannot. And will you drop that ridiculous accent? No one can hear your thoughts, especially not with me actively speaking with you."

"Hey, the Scottish are amazing, as is the accent. And I've never met a dishonest Scotsman. Except Larry. He still owes me twenty-five pounds. That's about thirty-two and a half dollars, for you Americans." He added in a murmur.

"Stay on topic! And stop breaking dimensional walls!" The Third sighed and rubbed what would be temples on a human. "I didn't know I could get headaches until I met you, vessel."

"Blah blah blah. What did you want?" John watched the Third's hands then, when those moved away from his face, focused on the man's 'nose'. "It has to be seriously if you decided to pull me."

"It is. It would appear that your latest reincarnation attracted attention. The kind of attention that neither of us enjoys." The Third rarely disliked, or even enjoyed, anything, unless it was completely psychotic.

"Shit. Shit!" Then the accent dropped, as did all of use of any human language. "I thought the process was supposed to be subtle!" John jumped to his feet and began pacing, searching his pockets for his Watch.

"It's still in the physical world. And usually the process is subtle, when you aren't incompetent!" Now the Third had shifted to his own language as well, which only served to make John even more agitated.

"How was I incompetent?" He shouted at the shadowy man. "Quite frankly the process would be much easier with already dead bodies! You're the one who enjoys shoving me into living beings!"

"I have already explained why that approach won't work!" Now the Third was on his feet, too.

"Threesies, you need to calm down. You woke us up!" The shrill, grating voice came from the maddeningly festive looking man who had appeared to the right of the Third, who had shivered slightly right before the odd man's sudden manifestation, which was quickly followed by a figure shrouded in a darkness so complete that whatever light that went near him was snuffed out.

"Yeah, Third, we were trying to take a nap. Don't want to overstress us now, do you?" The dark figure spoke in a warped, deep voice that sounded like how he looked. The man leaned against the Third's abandoned chair and smiled, flashing slightly less dark teeth.

"Shade, Bringer, I apologize. The vessel and I were just discussing his failure-"

"Your failure, you twisted piece of dondra crap!" John's interjection went largely ignored, except for giggling from the festively adorned man, Bringer.

"-to stay hidden during the process. A homeless person robbed him in the in-between state and, while chatting with a friend about his wonderful find, was overheard mentioning the strange state of the body, covered in scars from head to toe and seemingly shrinking. The comment was heard by a man who just happened to be passing by. A very dangerous man, it just so happens. Very dangerous for us." The Third suddenly rounded on his vessel, his 'eyes' burning with a deep rage. "Now explain to me how that is my fault."

"I...I uh...may have misspoke, Third." He had looked. He tried not to, but John had looked into the Third's eyes and so many things were rushing through his head, things better left forgotten or, failing that, buried as deep as possible. "I apologize for my attitude." John slowly and gingerly sat in his chair once more. "I understand the danger of the situation. If I may ask who it is that heard about me, I can begin to plan accordingly."

The Third smiled and moved closer to his vessel, kneeling in front of him, and leaning in close so he could whisper into John's ear, pleased by the slight shiver of dread he felt. "The man with the seven lands legion. Are you sure can prepare, my vessel? Because if that man catches you, his strange tastes won't be the only thing you will have to endure." The Third chuckled, setting off a round of laughing from Shade and more giggling from Bringer. "Do good. For me, do very good." The Third rose and, with a flick of his hand, sent his vessel tumbling back to reality.

"That was quite a rude thing to do, Threesies, scaring our vessel like that!" Bringer sniggered, now studying the blades of the ceiling fan.

"Why warn him though, Third? Usually you let the vessel fend for himself." Shade grabbed the back of Bringer's outrageously colored jacket to keep him from climbing the chair.

"It felt different this time."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

"Lord Death, we have just received a report from the Death Scythe monitoring North America and a follow up from the witch Eruka Frog that confirms the original document." Sid stood in front of the Shinigami known as Death, two manila folders in his outstretched hand.

"What is written in the reports?" Death asked without reaching out to take the folders.

"Sir?"

"It's difficult to read through the mask and much quicker to hear a summary." Death answered simply, leaning slightly to the side, seeming for the all world like a very odd lamp bent sideways.

"Uh...yes, sir. Basically, the report covers a recent surge in energy on the Eastern seaboard and a subtle rising in the population in cities throughout the coast. Eventually the growing numbers caught the attention of our North America Death Scythe, who investigated and discovered-"

Just then John ran up and shouted, "Death! Death! I have important information that has to do with what Sid is currently telling you! And my convenient arrival is not a plot device! Uh...ignore that last bit." He added as he skidded to a stop in front of his new boss.

"What information do you have?" Death completely overlooked the added comment in favor of the odd man's possibly helpful news.

"I may be the reason behind these events. I also have a very good idea of who it is that is directly responsible for the extra people in those towns. But, if it is who I believe it to be, this could be bad. Like Kishin times a million bad, and that is not a hyperbole." John watched as Death processed the information.

"Oh, that does sound bad." John and Sid both almost fell over at the completely nonchalant response. "Good thing we have you close at hand to help with the situation, hmm?" From the tone of Death's voice, John would swear a stack of varied religious texts that the man in front of him was smiling.

"Are you entirely sure that you're sane?" John knew the answer to that question was yes, but for the first time in his life, he really did not quite believe what his powers were telling him.

"Pretty sure. Millennia of existence make the line a little blurred at times." Death replied, once again in a completely unconcerned tone of voice.

"I...completely understand that feeling, actually."

Doesn't mean he isn't crazy. Thomas suddenly said. And where the hell were you earlier? Everything suddenly went quiet!

I'll explain later! "So I guess I'll be helping deal with the problem?" John glanced at Sid then turned his attention back to Death.

"Well, since you admitted to being partly responsible for it, of course!"

You might be in deep shit. Thomas commented.

Deeper than the ocean, boy. Deeper than the ocean.


	7. Play That Funky Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: No more music based fics. It leads to stuff like this.

Who is this guy that has you all worried, John? From what I can tell, you're a bit of a badass.

"Yes, but even I have my limits. I am well trained, but I can only fight up to eight high level opponents." John huffed out, slowly unbending his body from the upward curl that was required of one of his preferred exercises. "And while a normal army is not made up of elite soldiers, numbers do influence a fight. How many have I done again? I lost track." He breathed out.

Seventy. Ok, but if numbers do matter, why are we talking as if-

"As if I would be fighting alone? I have no idea how the fight will go. I like being prepared. And really? Seventy? I could swear it was closer to seventy-five or six." John shook his head and curled his body up again, his upper torso upright once more while legs remained wrapped around the bar protruding from the wall. "So that's seventy-one?"

Yes. I can count, you know. Thomas added in a grumble and John had a brief mental image of the younger man shaking his head.

"I know you can count. You count my steps when I walk to the gym for class." John chuckled, resting for a moment to feel the blood rush to his head.

You know, I'm surprised that you aren't bigger, considering how much you lifted earlier. You're really…

"Lean?" John supplied after another curl.

Yeah! You're really lean. And short.

"I'm5'5"! That's not that short!" John protested, gasping as he breathed in at the wrong moment.

Average height for a white male, like you, is six foot.

"I'm not white though! I'm an alien! In the literal sense!" John took a moment to get his breathing rhythm back under control before resuming his curls.

Then what's the average height where you're from?

John cleared his throat uncomfortably and responded, "6'3"." It took ten minutes for Thomas to stop laughing. "You're a bit of an asshole, ya know that? Not my fault I got the short gene!" John hit his hundredth curl and let himself drop, landing on his hands and rolling upright. "The man that will be coming here, he's very dangerous. He will be a major danger to this school."

Yeah, I got that from the talk you had with Lord Death.

"Yeah…it's my fault. Damn it, this was just supposed to be a routine talent scouting." John sighed and sat down on his cot. "I can't ever have a quiet day. Either there's a problem at headquarters, in the city, or when I'm just out! And now I'm gonna have to call up my brother for a favor and he'll probably show up just to punch me!" John pulled a large pocket watch out of his jacket, which he had tossed aside before working out, and held it up to his ear, just listening to the ticking.

You have a brother?

"Yeah. Really good guy. Bit of a hothead sometimes. I'll call him if the situation gets any worse." John decided, his eyes closed and the watch still held up to his ear.

How could it get any worse? There is an army massing on the other side of the country, readying to attack the DWMA!

"They could have war machines. That would be worse." John pointed out then stood up suddenly and grabbed his violin case.

Where are we going? Thomas envisioned himself pressing against the inside of John's eyeball, trying to see out, but he knew it would do no good. One eye was completely dead and the other just didn't do anything.

"Music room. Every school has one, even one like the DWMA. Just gotta find it." John pulled open the door to his dungeon room and walked out, leaving it cracked, having already had to pick the lock once and not wanting to repeat the incident.

You going to play something?

"No, I was just gonna sit in the room with my violin on my head like a hat." John replied casually, though the sarcasm felt like a physical blow to Thomas. "Yes, I plan on playing a few songs. It helps me think. And I need to think right now." John wandered the school, listening into each classroom, searching for the familiar sound of brass and wood that usually filled a music room. "Here you are." John pushed open the door and smiled, taking in a deep breath. "When you're as old as I am, you truly begin to appreciate the timelessness of good music, Thomas."

How old are you again?

"Old enough to give out little bits of wisdom, ok?" John sat atop a tall wooden stool and unfastened his case, gently setting it on the ground after pulling out his instrument and bow. "Give me a song. Any song. I just might know it."

"Do you know Moonlight Sonata?" A voice asked from the door way.

"That is usually played on piano, is it not? You would know, Soul." John didn't bother looking up, instead he chose to tune his violin.

"Yeah, but you said any song. I want to hear Moonlight Sonata. I don't get to hear many classical instruments here, besides my piano and a few others." Soul sat down at the grand piano situated in the center of the large room, several feet from John's stool.

"Improvised or straight up?" John asked, getting into position, violin under chin, hand around the neck, bow at rest.

"Regular Beethoven." Soul answered, watching his teacher ready himself.

"Alright, let's see if I have the right…" John began playing and almost immediately stopped. "No, that's Radioactive. I've listened to a lot of songs." John cleared his throat, put the bow to the string, and began again. "There we are." He sighed, closing his eyes as he played. "I never understood why classical music isn't as popular now as it was. Such beauty has almost never been replicated."

"Not many people put as much effort into the instrumental, since most songs have words now." Soul said, surprised by how into the music John already was.

"I suppose the words are important as well. That's why so many spiritual songs had words back then. Of course, most of the populace not being able to read probably contributed to that. Gotta teach the bible somehow." John chuckled. Their conversation continued for a few hours, Soul supplying a song each time John finished one and John relaying little known facts about each one. Eventually, John stopped playing and 'looked' over at Soul. "Why don't you play with me? I haven't played a duet in a very long time. In fact, the last duet I played displeased a king and I was punished severely."

"I don't like to play very often, especially not for others." Soul watched as John shrugged and began to put away his violin.

"Probably for the best. I imagine it's getting very late. I'll get you to play with me some day, Soul. In the meantime, get home safely." John picked up his violin case and headed for the door, turning back when the young albino called his name. "Hmm?"

"Aren't you supposed to discourage students sneaking into the Academy building?"

"What do mean? I didn't see you." John smiled and turned away, waving good-bye. "Just be home before it's too late! I'd rather not have Maka on my ass about you!" Halfway down the hall, John heard the soft notes of a piano and his smile grew.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

In another dimension, place, and time, a man slept in a large bed, covered in thick blankets. He rolled over onto his back, his long black hair fanning out on his pillow. He smiled slightly and sighed contentedly. Just then, a bright light filled the previously dark room, followed by a sound.

Ring-Ring Bling

Ring-Ring Bling

Ring-Ring Bling

The man groaned and pulled his pillow over his head in a futile attempt to block out the ring tone and the light. "Damn it, this had better be good. This is Victorian London; I shouldn't even have a cell phone!" The man blindly reached over to his night stand for the phone and pulled it under the pillow with him. "Mason speaking. Deliver your message then go die in a hole for waking me up."

"Hey, brother! Sorry about that! Didn't know what time it was over there." The voice coming out of Mason's cell phone was very familiar and as much as he loved his brother, the raven-haired man would gladly strangle John if they were in the same room.

"What do you want, brother?" Mason pulled the pillow off his head and got out of his bed, heading for the window.

"Who says I want something? I call you all the time to check up on you." Mason could not deny the truth of his brother's words and instead chose to remain silent as he checked for the moon in the night sky.

"Based on the position of the moon, it's one o'clock in the morning here. If you called just to check up on me, I'm going to convince Ethan to break your Watch." Mason yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth or stifle the noise.

"Alright, alright. I need a favor, but you won't like it." Something clanked in the background of John's side of the call and the man side. "Thought I had that in there good."

"Brother, please focus. I may not need sleep, but I do enjoy the dreams." Mason snapped his fingers and a candle on his nightstand flickered to life, a small flame burning away at the wick. Mason returned to his bed and watched the flame.

"Ah, right, sorry." The something clanged a second time and Mason shook his head. "There's a bit of a problem developing where I am."

"Aren't you supposed to be on a scouting mission? What could you have possibly done while helping look for a new Master?" Mason rubbed the bridge of his nose, doing his best not to sigh out loud.

"I didn't really do anything. I kinda got killed while in the original location. And then when I came back, I was somewhere else, so I figured I would keep going with the job until I was told otherwise." Mason heard the creaking of a cot in the background and felt tempted to stand up. He always hated it when they accidently mirrored each other.

"Ok, but I am not seeing the issue here."

"I'm getting to it. There's a Card Hunter after me."

Mason really felt the desire to laugh. And not that kind of laugh that you let out when someone tells a joke. No, this would have been the deep, full body laugh that most comedians dream of getting out of people. "The problem is a Card Hunter? Like one of the ones I work with? We're talking about the same people, right?"

"Yes, brother, we are. But you are thinking of the ones that go it alone. I'm talking about the big guy. The one with the massive army."

The urge to laugh had died. "Are you speaking about uh…?" Mason pulled open the drawer on his nightstand and pulled out a small, leather bound notebook and began reading through the list of names written in spiky letters. "Curtis? That's him, right? Curtis Wrights?"

"That sounds right. I've only heard the name once." John sighed. "This could end up going very badly, brother. He brought an army to catch me."

"How bad could it be? Maybe he's not even there for you." Mason flipped to the page containing Wrights' current status and bounties. "Oh, scratch that. Yeah, he just recently took up your active bounty. Ooh, you've gone up five thousand units since I last checked."

"Really now? Do I finally hold the record?"

"Nope. Jack is still ahead by fifteen thousand."

"Damn you, Jack. Just how bad is Curtis?" John asked after a moment of silence.

"Says here that he was demoted once for leveling an entire city in pursuit of one bounty target." Mason shook his head as his read, unfolding the page to get an idea of just how long the list of transgressions really was. "Goodness, he might have a longer rap sheet than you, brother."

"Impressive. I'm truly amazed that someone found out everything that he's done wrong and recorded it for future use. Well done on his part, really." Mason could almost hear the eye roll.

"Father was right, you are a sarcastic little shit." Mason chuckled, folding up the page and shutting his notebook.

"Yes, but he loved my sarcasm, whereas you used it as an excuse to hit me when we were little."

"You deserved it. Sometimes."

"Bullshit!" John laughed. They spoke like that for some time, the topics ranging from what they had been up to since last they saw each other to what would taste better in a pie, frog or snake, simply because they could. "Mason, will you at least consider it?" John asked after several minutes of comfortable silence.

"Yeah. Just for you, I'll consider helping." Mason answered. "I have to go now, John. Try to sleep, ok?"

"I'll always do, Mason." Boop! The call ended.

"Love you, too." Mason murmured, setting the phone down and standing up. He moved over to his wardrobe and pulled open the doors, looking for his uniform. He pulled out the black, formal suit and quickly changed. He had around an hour before he needed to worry about breakfast, so he made his way to his favorite room: the piano room. He closed the door behind him and sat on the bench, lifting the fall board and tapping a key to check the pitch. "I'll have to tune you once the weather begins to change." Mason tested a few more keys just to be sure and smiled. "Perfect."

Mason set his fingers on the keys, closed his eyes, and began to play. He did not play a particular song, instead he allowed the rhythm wander, he let it loose into the air and simply followed behind it. As he played, he thought. He thought about what his brother had asked of him. He thought about the work he needed to get done. He thought about what sort of trouble he was bound to get into if he went to his brother's aid. He thought all the times his brother had helped him. And lastly, he thought about how he knew that his brother knew exactly what his answer would be the moment he decided to call. "I love you, brother, but I hate it when you do that." Mason muttered, opening his eyes and watching his lightly tanned fingers as they played. "I think I should call Ethan." He sighed and stopped, figuring if he did so know, he would still have plenty of time to make breakfast. "Not like she will wake up before I 'force' her out of bed."

Back in his room, Mason scrolls through his contacts until he finds Ethan's number. "Better be awake."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

If not for the very loud nature of the music Ethan had chosen for his ringtone, he doubted that he would have heard it over the noise his table saw. "Ethan, Master of Inventors, speaking. Wha' do ya need?" Ethan spoke into a Bluetooth headset that John had gotten him so that he wouldn't accidentally cut his phone in half. Again. He took advantage the headset then to check the cut and the measurements of the wooden bar.

"Ethan, I need a favor." Mason said, surprised that he did not have to shout to be heard.

"You and every other person that has my number, Mason. Too long." Ethan added absently, flipping a small lever on his goggles to activate the magnify function, which shut off the sunglasses mode. "Oh! The lights are on!"

"Ethan, focus! This isn't a technology related favor."

"Oh? Then what do you need of me? I only build things and blow stuff up." Ethan ducked right then as a metal insect flew at his head. "Found you! Beets, where have you been?"

"Beets? Do you mean that insane beetle you made a decade or so ago? You KEPT it? You NAMED it?!"

"Of course I kept him. You never throw away a good idea, no matter how crazy it might be. Now, what was this favor of yours?" Ethan held out his free hand for the brass beetle to land on and set the piece of lumber aside in favor of a bottle of oil.

"Brother has asked me to do something and I think it will require a little of your talents. Would you mind?"

"Oh, not at all. Been a while since I left the warehouse for anything except coffee. Just send me the coordinates and I'll see if I can't convince the warehouse to swing by." Ethan, finished oiling the clockwork bug, stroked along one of its wings, which caused it to shiver and flutter the gossamer pieces. "Oh, and Mason, I still need that pin back. I told you you couldn't keep it." Ethan hung up the phone and before he could walk off, received two rapid texts, one with the requested coordinates and the other a very obscene series of words which was then followed by this: Sorry. That last one was for John. Remembered he woke me up. Ethan shrugged and headed over to his computer to translate the directions into something the warehouse would understand: musical notes. He smiled and pulled off his goggles, and immediately tumbled into a pile of cogs that he hadn't seen because of the zoom function. "Damn it, that's gonna bruise." The albino mumbled.


	8. Demons In My Dreams / Rebel Yell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Seriously, I need to know about the italics, please? It's driving me crazy.

Seems like you couldn't sleep again. Thomas comment floated against a steady stream of numbers as John performed a ridiculous number of pushups.

"No, I couldn't." John forced out through gritted teeth. He knew he had been exercising for a long time, but he had already lost count of the minutes, and he hadn't bothered with the hours.

What is it that you dream about that keeps you up? Thomas kept track of the numbers as they passed him by.

"I dream of many things. Any number of them can keep me awake." John stopped and almost immediately collapsed on the floor, panting quietly. "Many of them do." He slowly got to his feet, legs shaking, and took up a boxer's fighting stance. "I don't get a lot of sleep. Don't really need it, but I have very few other things to do at night." John knew he probably should not keep moving. After all, he did pass his previous pushup record by almost a hundred and that couldn't be healthy, but he just couldn't stop. "I think humans have a name for what I experience. Night something." John started with a simple series of punches and jabs, sucking in a breath every so often as the motions pulled at his muscles.

Nightmares? Thomas had had plenty of those, especially after the Kishin incident.

"No. I had nightmares as a child and these are not that." John's arms dropped to his sides and he stood in the middle of his dungeon room, head down, and lungs working overtime.

Night terrors? Thomas knew some kids that had begun having those and ended up needing counseling for several months.

"I suppose." John groaned, sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. "I suppose they are." John rested his hands on his lap, sat up straight, and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, his heart calmed, and the world fell away.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

"Ms. Rachel, I'm going to be gone for a few days, so I've asked that young man that makes those amazing crepes to watch the manor for a few days," Mason called as he pulled his trench coat out of his wardrobe with one hand and combed his hair back with the other, the lock of red falling in front of his face like usual. "I need a haircut," he added to himself, grabbing a hair tie from his nightstand as his moved through his room.

"I don't see why I can't stay here by myself," Rachel called from the other side of his door.

"Because the last time I did that, you took in as many stray animals as you could and hid them in unused bedrooms." Mason laid his coat on his bed and ducked back into the wardrobe, shoving aside shirts and pants as he searched.

"That was one time! And if I remember correctly, you didn't complain when I took you in."

"Most strays don't complain about receiving a home." Mason's hand bumped against the object he had been looking for and quickly latched onto it, drawing it out of its hiding place. "There you are!" Mason twirled his cane, a grin on his face as he watched the blue gem at the top flash and sparkle. "And why must you argue with me? I do my best to assist you and you seem to delight in arguing."

"Arguing with you is entertaining," Rachel responded with, Mason assumed, a shrug. "Besides, you wouldn't enjoy working with me if I weren't so difficult."

"Oh, so I work with you. I thought, as a butler, I was supposed to serve you." Mason chuckled, slipping into his trench coat and sliding his cane into one of the belt loops. "At least promise to behave, even if you actually won't." Mason said as he stepped out of his room.

"Fine fine, I promise to be a good girl," Rachel replied, not even bothering to hide her crossed fingers.

"You'll be the death of me one day, I just know it." Mason smiled at her.

"Don't say that right before you go off to help your brother. It's bad luck."

"Never believed in luck, to be honest." Mason straightened his coat and closed the door to his room. "And my brother isn't that bad. He cares a great deal about me." He pulled a pocket watch out of the coat's inner pocket and placed it against the door. "Master of Thieves, location 32451." The lock clicked and Mason put away the watch. "Just a few days, ok?"

"Yeah, sure." Rachel nodded then grabbed Mason's collar and pulled him into a kiss. "Don't get yourself shot or anything. That would ruin any work plans we have."

"When have I ever been shot?" Mason laughed, pushing the open and stepping through before Rachel could answer.

"Last Thursday!" She smacked the door and sighed. She pulled her own cell phone and dialed her brother's number.

Click! "Yo, sis! Aren't you in Victorian London? Should you be using a cell phone?" Ethan asked, the sound of an electrical saw cutting through something metallic in the background.

"Should you be cutting metal while on the phone?"

"Ah! Touché!" Ethan laughed and the saw cut off. "So what's going on? Haven't heard from you a few months."

"I called you last week, Ethan." Rachel checked the calendar on her phone to confirm her statement.

"For you, yes. I have explained countless times that time is different for every dimension. Three months have passed since your last call for me, but for you, it happened last week."

"Ok then. I think it would be more appropriate for me to ask what's new with you." Rachel moved through her mansion, heading for a specific room.

"Not much. Found my beetle, repaired a few Watches, built a death ray, visited an old friend, making some replacement parts for my bike right now, and I got asked out on a date."

Rachel made a choking sound and had to pull the phone away from her to cough. "You what?!"

"Which part? One of those was really questionable."

"The date part! You got asked out on a date! What did you say? Where are you going? What does she look like?"

"I said no, Ray."

"Why? I'm sure you would have had fun." Rachel shouldered open a door and stepped into a nearly empty room, except for a half table shoved against the far wall and the chair that accompanied it.

"You know why, Ray. I just can't." Ethan said as the wall shimmered and revealed him to his sister, sitting at a table exactly like the one in front of her, in a room exactly like the one she was in.

"Ethan, we've talked about this. You need to let it go." Rachel told him as she sat down.

"I can't and you know it. I can't let that go." Ethan sniffed and rubbed at his nose, succeeding only in spreading some dark colored powder on the tip. "So uh where's Mason? He leave?"

"Yeah, he went to go help his brother with something."

"Mhm." Ethan searched his sister's face for a moment then added, "He'll be fine. John would go to the ends of the universe to keep Mason safe."

"I'm not worried about Mason. I'm worried about whoever it is that he's gone to fight." Rachel rested her head on one hand and set her phone down with the other, seeing no point in holding on to it now.

"He take Ripshot with him?"

"That's such an idiotic name for a rifle."

"It's a good name! Especially considering what I designed that thing to be capable of. He hasn't tested it, to my knowledge, so I'll have to ask him how it fires when I see him." Ethan pulled a set of gears out of one of the pockets on his smock and started fiddling with them.

"You say that like you'll see him sooner rather than later."

"No, I didn't," Ethan replied, balancing one gear on top of another.

"Ethan Floodwaters, you knew he was going before I did, didn't you?" Rachel asked him sternly.

"No, of course not."

"Ethan!"

"Ah, yes...I mean...yes, yes I did!" Ethan dropped his gears at Rachel's demanding tone. "You sounded like Mom for a sec," he said after a moment.

"Good. She was the only one you couldn't lie to." Rachel sighed.

"Not the only one." Ethan murmured, picking his gears back up and slipping them into his pocket. "Speaking of lies, when were you going to tell me that you love Mason?"

"I do not! What would make you say that?"

"Ray, we may not look it, but we are twins. I've known you since our conception! I know when you're in love, even if you don't." Ethan smiled. "But you do realize this officially makes you an animal nut, yeah?"

"Oh shut up." Rachel laughed, watching her brother's pale face light up at the sound. "So did you finally decide to dye your hair?" Rachel pointed at Ethan's raven locks.

"No, the Master of Stylists forced me to do it. Said he was tired of hearing me bitch about my weird colored hair. Unfortunately, he did not have anything closer to what my hair would look like if I wasn't albino."

"I think it looks nice. Really brings out your paleness!" Rachel burst into laughter and almost fell out of her chair.

"Oh, now that's just rude. No Christmas present for you this year." Ethan said in the evilest voice he could manage without laughing as well.

"Nooo! You can't do that!" Rachel whined. "You always make me such wonderful things!" And it was true. Last time they had Christmas together, Ethan had given her a music box that had interchangeable songs. Every so often he made a new roll for the box and would manage to hide it among the other presents that she received.

"Then be nice!" It was Ethan's turn to laugh now and he did just that.

"Now who's the rude one?" Rachel stuck her tongue out at Ethan, who responded by making a strange face at her.

"We have the maturity of six-year-olds," Ethan said after their laughing fit finally died down.

"Six-year-olds with the best jobs in the world."

"I guess that's why we act like that. We love what we do and we love each other." Ethan was now lying on his table and Rachel soon followed suit.

"Nothing like love to make your life a little more bearable, huh?"

"I'd drink to that if I had anything to drink. Non-alcoholic, of course. Can't drink around power tools."

"Just how much of those fumes have you inhaled today? You sound like you're coming down off a high."

"Or going up on one. Nah, I've not done anything that causes questionable gasses to be released. Not recently. I'm just happy. We haven't really seen each other in a while." Ethan glanced over at his sister and smiled. "Glad I finally got this thing working."

"Same here. Did me some good to see you again, little bro."

"It was by three minutes! Let it go!"

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

"John? Are you there?"

"He has to be there; he wasn't anywhere else."

"Maybe he's napping!"

"Patti, I'm pretty sure you are the only one at this school that takes naps."

"Guys, I can just kick the door down."

"Black*Star, not even you can kick down a door this thick."

John sighed and jumped to his feet. "What do you lot want?" John yanked the door open to glare out at the small group gathered in front of his cell door.

"You weren't in class today," Maka answered first.

"And father explained the situation on the eastern seaboard to us." Kid further clarified.

"And what, you all were concerned about me?" John kept his hand on the door, interest fading quickly.

"Yes. And we wanted to ask you for more information," Tsubaki said.

"Really now? If Lord Death did not tell you everything, what makes you think I will?" John leaned against the door.

"Because you like to talk," Black*Star said.

"Yes and what usually comes out of my mouth is a bunch of nonsense. What's your point? You know what? I don't really care. I'm busy, so you can question me later." John moved to close the door and suddenly three different shoes were in the way. "Really? What are you all, seven? Move your feet." John pulled the door back and tried to push it closed again, this time stopped by several hands.

"You sit in a cell and teach us, what could you possibly be doing?" Maka asked, sticking her head through the crack.

"You're very nosy children and I, as a teacher, am not obligated to tell you anything!" John shifted his grip to put his left arm out of view. "If you're so eager, just come back later, ok? I may or may not answer your questions then."

"You want us to come back later based on 'may or may not'?" Kid asked over the din of his friends' attempts to force open the door.

"Better odds than if you ask your father!" John pointed out, his arms shaking as he pushed back against the group.

Your arms are gonna give out. Thomas observed.

I noticed! Shut up so I can concentrate! John pushed again and suddenly he was flying to the left and the door fell open. Didn't plan on that!

Should've used a bandage.

I was going to do that, but they rudely barged in! "Damn it! Why couldn't you just wait!" John yanked the sleeve on his left arm down and jumped to his feet. "I said I was busy, and you just insist that your curiosity is even more important than what I have going on in my personal life, especially since it's my personal life that's causing the situation!"

"John," Maka said, everyone else silent, "what's wrong with your arm?"

John sighed and shoved his bloody hand into his pocket. "I told you I was busy, didn't I? Never said what I was busy with." John pulled the door a little further open and held it there. "Please go."

"John, you should have that looked at." Tsubaki insisted. "It could get-"

"Get out!" John screamed, sending them all to their feet and scurrying through the open doorway. "Come back in a couple of hours." He added, only barely loud enough for them to hear as they left. He closed the door softly and dropped to the ground in front of it, slipping off his jacket.

Next time, maybe you shouldn't answer the door.

I thought I could turn them away with a simple explanation. Could've told me it wouldn't work, you know. John felt along his arm, his skin stinging every time his fingers ran over a fresh cut. I put this off for too long. I'm gonna have to make a lot of new scars. John sighed and counted up how many he'd managed so far. "Ten. Damn it. Five more for today."

Why do you do this? Is it...are you depressed or something?

"No. I passed that bit a while back. Now it's more along the lines of 'fuck it, made it this far'. I'm counting."

Counting what?

"Something that's really important to me." John grabbed a new knife from one of the sheaths he'd hidden along his pant legs. "You may want to step away for a bit. After ten, it gets a bit unpleasant."

Are you sure you want to be alone? That doesn't seem healthy.

"I'm never alone," John replied quietly, already walling off his active consciousness from Thomas. "I'm sure he'll spare you all from this as well. He knows better." John raised the knife to his arm and-

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

"Excuse me, ma'am, could you give me directions to..." Mason looked down at the slip of paper in his hand, "...Death City...?"

The waitress of the broken down diner glanced up from her ordering book and nodded. "Yeah, but that's all the way in Nevada. You better have a ride, or else it's gonna take you a while." The older woman checked her notebook to ensure the order was correct and left to give it to the cook.

"Hopefully there's a garage nearby, so I won't have to worry about that." Mason sighed and began playing with his utensils, looking over the small map in front of him. "Tennessee. I hate Tennessee. People can't drive. They can't drive in Kentucky either. Or Britain." Mason sighed again and dropped his fork on the table then immediately picked it back up when the wood began to blacken. "Oops. No one saw that." Mason looked around then turned back to his fork and focused on cooling it.

"Here you go, sir. Order of pancakes, hash browns, and bacon with a large sweet tea. Sorry the tea's cold, darn chef forgot to heat it up." The waitress set down the plate and the cup, pulled a straw from her apron pocket and kept a hand at the ready to pull out the notebook. "Will that be all for you?

"Yes, ma'am. And don't worry about the tea. I drink it either way." Mason smiled at the woman, who returned the expression and walked away to service other customers. Mason pressed a finger to the pancakes, hash browns, and bacon and nodded his satisfaction. Nice and hot. The cold tea should be fine.

Sweet tea? Really? With your energy output, that might be a really bad idea. A gruff voice said, causing Mason to smile.

Where have you been all day? Mason's purr-like voice replied as he dug into the pancakes, after applying a generous amount of syrup.

Napping, obviously. Not much else to do in your head. Can't even decorate.

Right, that's the problem. Mason rolled his eyes and took a sip from his tea, which he almost choked on when he realized just how sweet it truly was.

That's what you get, smartass. The voice chuckled.

Rude. Mason coughed quietly and pushed aside the tea, deciding to focus on the solid food instead.

So what are we doing here?

Eating.

I meant the dimension in general.

Oh! We're helping out John and the Third. Mason broke up his bacon and mixed it with his hash browns then moved the whole mess into the leftover syrup.

You eat strangely. And with what are we helping them?

Card Hunter that might go a bit overboard. I'm honestly just here to make sure he doesn't go too far.

Your brother or the Hunter?

Mason didn't bother to answer as he finished his breakfast and asked for the check. A few minutes later, he was wandering down to a local mechanic's shop. Mason hopped the small chain-link fence protecting the garages and walked up to one of them with a combination lock in hand. "38, 71, 98." He muttered to himself, spinning the numbers into place and pressing the lock to the one on the garage door, which clicked open.

Your friend with the creepy beetle is quite clever with pocket dimensions.

"Indeed he is," Mason responded as he pulled the door up and smiled at his car, the 1976 Ford Falcon gleaming in the morning sun.

I think she missed you.

"Not as much as I've missed her." Mason exchanged his lock for his keys, climbed into the front seat, and started up his car. Mason couldn't help but purr along with his car's engine. "Second most beautiful sound I've ever heard."

What's the first? The gruff voice asked as Mason pulled out of the garage and hopped out to close the door and replace the lock.

"That's private, Fury." Mason chuckled, jumping back into his car and driving away, managing to keep a straight face at the baffled mechanic that watched the stranger guide a car the mechanic did not recognize out from behind his shop. Mason waved at the man as if they knew each other and the man waved back after a moment.

You know he will likely file a police report, right?

"Of course, but it won't come to anything. The car is registered in my name." Mason flipped through the radio stations until he found an R&B station he liked and focused on driving.

Fair enough. So are we taking a road trip?

"Oh yeah. We've about a day's worth driving, so it won't be long." Mason pulled his seat belt across his body with one hand as he passed a police cruiser.

We could stop to see some sights along the way.

"We're not tourists."

When was the last time you had a road trip? Outside of the Victorian Era.

"True, but my brother needs me and if the Third is in agreement with him like I think he is..." Mason casually flipped off a driver that honked at him for cutting them off, despite using a blinker.

Oh please, they both have the patience of saints, even if not for each other.

"Also true. But I'm driving so I get to override you no matter how much sense you make."

You get to play whatever music you like as the driver. This just isn't fair.

"Aren't you the one that invented the phrase 'life isn't fair'?" Mason chuckled.

Haha, very funny. I'm a demon, I'm allowed to make up such sayings.

"Reformed demon. And you were a demon lord, so good point. We're still not making any stops, except for the halfway."

Fine, but only if I get to drive after the pit stop.

"Sure, why not?"

Yay. Road trip.


	9. Hurt / The Lost Vikkings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: Oh, if you're reading this after I've edited these, or just substituted the italics, please ignore the freakouts.

John tied the two ends of the bandage together and tested his mobility, having had to wrap all the way up and over his shoulder. As he moved his arm around, John unblocked his mind so that Thomas could be free again.

Are you alright now?

"Yeah. Sorry, but I figured that it would be better if you didn't have to witness that." John pulled his shirt back on and grabbed his jacket.

Does it hurt when you do that? When you...count, I mean.

"A little. I've had worse done to me. Actually, many of the scars on my body are the results of previous deaths and some mild torture." John pushed open the door to the nurse's office as he pulled on his jacket, struggling slightly when it got to his bound shoulder. "At least I mostly use my right hand."

Is it that bad?

"No, I just wrapped my arm a bit too tight. I do that sometimes." John moved like a ghost through the empty school building, exploring the rooms and even the closets.

Do you think they're waiting for you or something?

"I know they are. I can hear them milling around in my room."

I thought you could only hear up to twenty feet away.

"I can extend it, but it makes the images blurrier."

Images?

"It's how I see. I have biomechanical implants in my ears that allow my brain to turn sounds into images. They're designed to pick up what I call atomic frequencies. And those are the pitch at which solid objects' atoms vibrate. I can see some liquids, too." John wandered into the homeroom for the E.A.T class and walked up to the teacher's desk. "Stein left his chair." He observed.

Stein left his chair?

"Fairly certain that's what I said. Something must have been on his mind earlier." John sat down in the computer chair, his front facing the chair's back, and began rolling around the classroom with it. "This is a mildly entertaining method of getting around." John pushed the chair out into the hallway and began exploring the school again, this time with the chair's assistance.

I can see why Stein likes that chair now. It's pretty fun.

"Mhm. Wonder how fast I can go..." John guided the chair to the longest hallway he could find, put himself against the wall, feet first, and shoved off as hard as he could. He shot down the hallway like a bat out of hell and eventually had to press his feet down against the floor in an attempt to slow the chair. It did not work, much to the amusement of Kid and his friends, who had gathered in the hall at the noise of the wheels squeaking.

CRASH! John slammed into the wall and tumbled off of the chair in a heap on the ground. "Bad idea. Such a bad idea..." he groaned as the chair fell over on top of him.

Maybe that's why Stein walks around more now. He messed around on that chair one too many times.

I wouldn't doubt it after that... "I'm fine...I'm fine..." John slowly pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his clothes.

"Are you sure, John?" Tsubaki asked softly, watching their teacher stumble away from the slightly damaged office chair.

"Oh, yeah. I've done far dumber things in my lifetime. Like windsurfing without lessons." John sat down on the floor a few feet away from where he'd crashed and smiled. "Though, I had a parachute for that..." He added.

"John, you should probably put Professor Stein's chair back, so he doesn't dissect you for playing with it," Maka said, walking over and righting the chair.

"A little dissection is good for the soul," John deadpanned, stretching his arms. "In all seriousness, it wouldn't be the first time someone's dissected me. Besides, he's way too busy to cut me open...right?" Without waiting for an answer, John jumped up and grabbed the chair from Maka. "Dissection is not pleasant!" He called as he hurried to put the rolling chair back.

"He's a very weird guy," Maka said as they all followed after John.

"A lot of people have said that about me!" John replied loudly from inside a nearby classroom. "Of course, they're not wrong." When the group of students walked into the class, they found John sitting on top of the teacher's desk cross-legged. "So what was it that you wanted to know so badly that you had to barge into my room during some very private time?"

"We wanted to know more about what has all the teachers and Lord Death so concerned." Tsubaki stepped forward then nervously backed up when John turned his 'gaze' on her, his eyes sending a shiver down her spine.

"And if Lord Death did not deem it important enough to tell you more, what makes you think I will?" John swept his eyes over the others before breaking into a smile. "Sure, why not?"

There was a long moment of silence, followed by a long moment of gaping mouths, which was then followed by all seven of them exclaiming some variation of the word 'what'. "You mean that you have no problem with telling us what's going on?" Kid asked.

"Of course I don't. Ask away. I'll either tell you the truth or not answer at all." John responded with a shrug. "Go on, go on."

"Well uh..." Kid started. "We want to know what it is that has my father gathering resources that would only be needed in a war."

"Because you all are about to go to war. I accidentally brought a fight to your front door." John smiled. "Next question."

"How is it your fault?" Maka spoke up.

"I'm a very dangerous man." John chuckled.

"What does that have to do with this?" Soul asked.

"A special kind of bounty hunter is after me because of how dangerous I am. The things I've done would make that Asura fellow look like a toddler throwing a tantrum." John hopped off the desk and moved to the row of seats in front of it. "You seem to be asking the wrong questions right now. Just saying."

"If we're asking the wrong questions, then why not tell us what the right ones are?" Kid almost demanded, barely holding back the attitude in his voice.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, you can't learn anything if it's just handed to you." John walked up to the top row and spun to face the small group. "Well, I've got somewhere to be, so the rest of your questions will have to wait." John waved and...disintegrated. There was no other word for it. One second he was there, smiling and waving, and the next he was a cloud of black smoke that quickly disappeared through the open window near the ceiling.

"What just happened?" Black*Star jumped up onto the desks and tried to peer out the window, but his stature made it almost impossible. Tsubaki quickly hopped up and tried to pull Black*Star away before he did something stupid.

"I think John just ditched us," Liz said.

"He did...that on purpose?" Maka whipped around to look at Liz, who shrugged in response.

"Maka, do you think you could find John with your Soul Perception?" Kid asked, already moving to the door.

"I think so. I've never used it on him, though." Maka followed after Kid and everyone else trailed behind them. "I won't know what to look for."

"Just look for something that reminds you of him."

Maka nodded and closed her eyes to focus for a moment then opened them again to peer at the souls of this within Death City. "There are a lot of people out tonight. It's hard to find anyone specific." Maka spun in a slow circle, examining the entire city. "I thought I saw something down near the clubs, but I can't be sure, it's very busy down there, too."

"Then we'll check there first," Kid said, still heading for the main doors. "If we don't find him, Maka will scan again."

"Kid, what if he doesn't want us to follow him?" Liz asked. "What if he needs personal time again?"

Kid stopped and turned to look back at his friends. "I think he wants us to see something. I think he wants us to follow him." Kid turned away and resumed walking. After a moment, the rest followed.

The group of friends soon discovered that Maka knew more about the clubbing district than she liked, as she easily guided them down streets, steered them away from certain alleys, and even greeted familiar people; and Maka managed all this while keeping up her Soul Perception, constantly searching the buildings around her for anything even resembling John and what she imagined his soul looked like.

"You've been practicing." Soul suddenly said.

"I wanted to develop my skill with Soul Perception," Maka replied after a couple seconds, her words hesitant.

As Soul opened his mouth to say more, a door flew open on a nearby club, one of the few that weren't quite as sleazy as the others. "You lot with a Kid? Capital K, I was told." A gruff sounding and sizable man asked from the open doorway.

"Yes, I am Kid." The young death god stepped forward.

The man nodded and stepped to the side to allow them all inside. "You've got seats saved for ya." The man watched them closely as they entered, Kid in the lead. "Can't believe you actually showed. Guess I owe Willy ten dollars. Seats are upfront, on the left." The man wandered off, presumably in search of the lucky 'Willy'.

"Did John reserve us seats here?" Tsubaki asked as they tried to find their seats in the crowded space.

"It would appear so." Kid responded, pointing to a table close to a small stage. The table had a single card on top with writing scrawled along the face of it. Once they managed to make their way over, the writing turned out to be their names, all listed in a messy print. "Are we supposed to wait here for him?"

"Flip it over, maybe something's written on the back," Patti suggested. The other side of the page did, in fact, have something written on it: Wait for me after the show, please!

"It would appear so," Maka said, repeating Kid to answer his question, causing Liz and Patti to giggle.

Kid refused to comment as they all took their seats, facing the stage and waiting for the aforementioned show. Not long after the group settled down, the main lights dimmed and a spotlight, manned by the bartender in the back, shined on the stage. The gruff man from earlier walked on to the stage and tapped the mic lightly. The resulting feedback caused many patrons to throw food, drinks, and, in one person's case, a shoe. "Hey, I gotta clean that shit up!" He said into the mic. "Anyway, I would like you all to meet a very lovely lady, who has agreed to sing for us tonight!" The man's announcement was met with soft cheers and applause. "Please step up to the stage, Joanne!" The man stepped aside as a slim woman with long, busy hair and a black dress that just barely hung above the stage floor, moved up to the mic. She smiled out at the crowd, her brilliant, emerald eyes sparkling.

"Hello, everyone. Thank you for the warm welcome." She said in a silvery voice. "I have only the one song for tonight, but you're all really good, I might come back with more."

"Maka, is John somewhere in the audience?" Kid whispered while everyone else in the seating area clapped and cheered again.

"I'll look, but I didn't see him on the way in." She replied softly, turning subtly in her chair so that she had a view of all the spectators.

"Tell me when you find him," Kid instructed, watching the woman in black on the stage. "I'll keep an eye on her, in case she tries to tell us something."

"Do you think John knows her?" Soul asked, a little softer now that everyone had calmed down.

"It's possible," Kid responded shortly.

"So, who wants to see if we can't raise the soul of good old Johnny Cash tonight?" The question was answered with a rousing chorus of 'yes' and more cheers. "Alright then, I think that qualifies as excitement." She laughed, her smile dazzlingly bright. "Not the happiest song in the world, but I thought I would sing Hurt for you all tonight. Boys, if you would be so kind," She said to the three-man band in the back. The guitarist nodded and started up the three-chord intro. Joanne took a deep breath and began to sing in a voice that flowed as steady as a river but filled with enough feeling to wash away the world.

"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real." Almost immediately, the audience went silent. So silent that Kid had to wonder if they'd all stopped breathing.

"The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting. Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything." Her eyes began to take on a different form of shine as she filled the cramped building with an old pain.

"What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know, goes away, in the end. And you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt." It wasn't just pain. There was something else mixed in, something, somehow, more powerful and yet more subtle.

"I wear this crown of thorns, upon my liar's chair. Full of broken thoughts, I cannot repair." Here, almost unnoticeable, she choked up.

"Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear. You are someone else, I am still right here." Now the cause of the new shine in her eyes became clear as the tears began to fall, sparkling as the stage light reflected off them.

"What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know, goes away, in the end. And you could have it all. My empire of dirt. I will let you down, I will make you hurt. If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find a way." As the song ended, so too did her strength, as she fell to her knees and began to openly cry. Several minutes before the gruff man stepped onto the stage to help Joanne down and into a private room. It was longer still before anyone in the audience made a sound, let alone moved.

"That wasn't what I expected." Soul suddenly remarked softly.

"It was...intense," Tsubaki added.

"Do you think she's alright?" Maka asked.

"The way she was acting, I have no-" Kid looked around as someone cleared their throat.

"Kid and friends, I was asked to give you this." The bartender who had been operating the spotlight was now standing at their table, a sheet of paper in hand. The man held it out then walked off when it was taken. "Someone wants to see us in one of the back rooms."

"Who?" Black*Star, who had been surprisingly silent the entire time, asked as he leaned over the table to try and read the paper.

"I think it's from John. It's the same writing as before."

"How does he even write? I thought he was blind." Liz said.

"Someone could be writing for him." Soul pointed out.

"Should we go? I think that's what's most important at the moment." Maka said.

"He said he would answer our questions, so I don't think we have much of a choice." Kid folded up the sheet and pocketed it as he stood up. Everyone else stood up with him and followed after Kid as he led the way to the back rooms, where they'd seen Joanne disappear to.

"Kid and friends?" The gruff man was standing outside one of the rooms in the back. "You're wanted in here." He knocked on the door and, after a soft 'come in', opened the door for them.

"Thank you, sir," Tsubaki told the man as she passed by.

"No problem, missy." The man smiled and shut the door behind them.

"Welcome to my little dressing room. For tonight, anyway." Said the petite woman sitting in front of the vanity mirror off to the left of the door. "I might just come back here." Joanne turned in her chair and smiled pleasantly at her visitors, despite her puffy eyes and splotchy skin.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Maka asked, taking in the small pile of tissues on the table in front of the mirror.

"Yes, I'm fine now. Thank you for asking, Maka. Although, I expected Tsubaki to ask first." Joanne stood and walked behind a changing curtain. "Or even Kid. He seems quite the gentleman."

"How do you know enough to expect something like that?" Soul asked, sweeping his eyes over the room.

"Well, I was sitting on the beam right over your head for weeks, Soul Eater." Joanne cleared her throat and coughed a bit. "I hate how it feels when I change the pitch and tone back." A much deeper and somewhat rougher voice answered. "It feels awkward."

"M-Ma'am?" Tsubaki stepped forward.

"Hey, hey, I'm getting changed. Dresses take a bit of work!" Now the voice was recognizable and caused nearly all of them to rush to pull back the curtain.

"John?!" Was the collective, surprised question as their teacher wrapped his long jacket tightly around himself and held his usual leather mask in place with one hand.

"Yes. Would you mind not barging in like ever? In any scenario?" John asked as he pulled off the wig that gave him shoulder length curly brown hair then rapidly ran his free hand through his real, short curly brown hair to fluff it back up. "Also, I'm only wearing boxers under my jacket, so I would honestly appreciate it if you closed the damn curtain." Kid was the only one of the group who didn't move back almost immediately. "Kid, while I was pretty sure you swing that way, it's very illegal for you to see me in my underwear."

"You said you would answer our questions, but why did you lead us here to watch some show where you sing?" Kid demanded.

"Did the part where I make an excellent female slip everyone's mind?" John asked, leaning around Kid to focus on the others.

"It doesn't seem that important right now," Maka explained.

"Rude. Just rude." John shook his head and returned his attention to Kid. "Let me get dressed and I will answer your questions, alright?" Kid nodded and finally backed away, letting John swish the curtain closed. "Actually, go ahead and start. I can multi-task."

"Alright. What kind of bounty hunter could possibly have what it takes to take on the DWMA?" Maka asked.

"Well, that's a bit of a long story."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

Mason, are we lost? Fury asked casually, peering at the road map in Mason's hands through his left eye.

"No, Fury, we are not lost. I can read a map." Mason huffed, blowing several strands of red hair out of his vision.

I can as well and I'm pretty sure we're lost. See, we should have taken that exit instead of taking the straightaway. Fury pointed at the roads he was talking about with Mason's tail, the slender furry appendage actually blocking more of the map than could be considered helpful.

"Fury, my tail is not a finger and I can still see the map." Mason pulled his tail away and pointed at the map with his finger. "Is this what you're talking about?"

Yes. You completely bypassed the exit that we should have taken.

"That exit leads nowhere! I'm looking right at the line and it goes nowhere!" Mason shook his head and reached over to his glovebox to find a map of Nevada to compare to his map of the U.S.

See, there's a little road right there!

"Fury, that's not a road! That's practically a deer trail! Like hell I'm taking my car through there!" Mason shook his head again and pulled out a red pen to mark his route.

That's almost an extra hour of riding, Mason! That's so unnecessary!

"Ugh, it's my car! Driver picks the music and the route, passenger shuts up!" Mason threw his maps into his passenger seat and opened his door. "I want something to drink." Mason locked his car and headed into the gas station to find anything remotely worth buying for the rest of the trip.

Why? Your body has no need for food.

"I like having something to keep my mouth busy." Mason winked at the guy who looked over at him in confusion and who quickly looked away with a blush.

Don't tease the poor humans, you insatiable weirdo. Fury made a gagging noise in Mason's head that almost caused him laugh out loud.

"Don't do that!" Mason whispered. "And besides, I can tease all I like. Just no touching." Mason opened one of the doors for the cold storages and looked through the drinks for something he could heat up.

They have coffee and tea up front, you know. And I thought Rachel was alright with touching, so long as she got all of the details.

"The no touching is my own rule. Besides, teasing is a lot more fun." Mason abandoned the fridges and headed back up front to check out the various already hot drinks for purchase. "Hmmm, they have cinnamon flavoring. And some Irish cream."

That doesn't sound like a pleasant mix.

"I imagine warm honey and body hair didn't either and yet what do a lot of people do?" Mason asked as he picked out a large cup and began filling it with his strange choice of flavors.

Fair enough. So, are you going to ask for directions?

"I know where I'm going, damn it. I can read a map." Mason sighed and pushed a lid onto his cup. "Shut up so I can pay." He muttered as he approached the cashier, a tired looking young man who seriously needed to wash his shirt. "This and ten on station three, please," Mason said politely.

"That will be..." The man scanned the coffee cup and tapped a few times on his screen, "...thirteen dollars and seventeen cents."

Mason pulled out his wallet and extracted the exact amount of money needed. "Thank you," he said as he headed out the door, coffee in hand.

You didn't ask for directions.

"I don't need directions!"


	10. Savant - Orphan

"So you're an interdimensionally wanted criminal with multiple bounties on your head and now you've brought a very dangerous bounty hunter to this dimension?" Maka summarized slowly, everyone else in the room quiet as they absorbed the information that John had finally given up.

"That sounds about right. You missed the part where I cross-dress for relaxation and call myself Joanne, but yeah, that's about it. Anything else you need to know?" John brushed down his slacks and straightened the collar of his button-up. "What colors am I wearing?"

"Black and a very bright blue," Maka answered. "What could you have done that would result in a situation like this?"

"Many things. None of which you honestly need to know. So black pants and a blue shirt, right? I would hate it if it were the other way around. You can keep asking questions, I don't have anywhere I need to be right now." John moved over to a rack of hats that the bar usually kept for costumes.

"Yes, black pants and blue shirt. I think we do need to know. How else can we trust you?"

"Ooh, a big question that. The answer is, you can't. Part of the reason for most of those bounties is that I am mentally unstable and just barely holding onto my perception of reality. I could quite literally lose my mind right now and cause all sorts of trouble. Or piss my pants. Hard to predict which in such a calm situation." John picked up a bright pink trilby and placed it on his head. "Does this go with what I'm wearing?"

"Not at all." Kid replied. They had already sat through this process earlier when John suddenly decided that he wanted to wear something around his neck. He eventually gave up on it when they shot down so many of his choices. And trying to get him to focus solely on the task at hand was impossible. "It's pink."

"Pink goes with everything." John huffed, putting the hat back and picking up a black flat cap and practically slapping it on his head. "How's this?"

"Put on your jacket with it," Tsubaki suggested, the only one who seemed to be having some fun with John's desire to try on what clothing he could find in the dressing room.

John picked up his jacket and slung it on. "How's this?" While his bomber jacket did not quite fit with the rest of his outfit, it did give an idea of how, with the right outerwear, distinguished he could appear.

"Good, but I think the jacket needs to be changed out," Tsubaki commented.

"What do you mean you're mentally unstable?" Kid butted in, having worked as much out, but never thinking the man would admit it.

"Exactly what it sounds like, I would imagine. You remember Shade, yes?" John examined his jacket, mostly with his hands, then checked it against the clothes he was already wearing. "Maybe a chesterfield would be better. Single column buttons definitely..." John mumbled.

"Can you focus on the discussion?" Kid demanded, finally standing up from his seat.

"I am giving this conversation the attention it deserves and no more," John replied, pulling off the flat cap and setting it back on the small shelf next to the vanity. "Anyway, Shade is part of the reason I am unhinged. Beyond that, I do not currently feel comfortable enough around you all to explain more. Now, I think we've been here long enough." John pulled a pocket watch out of his jacket, the polished brass chain disappearing into the pocket. He clicked the button at the top, the cover popping open and the ticking that had been so quiet suddenly intensifying. "Actually, we're over. Damn it. Hey, Kid, you're a skateboarder, right?" John snapped the watch closed and turned to face the young reaper.

"Yes, I am."

"May I borrow your board? I'm expected somewhere. I'll owe you one if that makes you more willing to lend it." John pulled on his jacket and ruffled his hair one last time. "I might even answer a big question."

Kid opened his mouth to say no, with half a mind to add in other, less pleasant words but stopped to think about it. Kid needed more answers from John, and now he was guaranteed at least one to a big question. The only problem being that he would have to give up his board for however long John would see fit to use it. "Where are you going?"

"The gate to the city. I promise to return the board quickly." John smiled and pulled out his watch again. "I'll even give this to you as collateral. How about it?"

Kid had no idea just how important the watch was to John, but now he had a guarantee for a speedy return as well as an answer. "Alright." John tossed the watch to Kid after unclipping the chain from inside his pocket and Kid brought out his skateboard, Beelzebub, then quickly put away the pocket-watch.

John snatched up the skateboard and headed for the door, saying over his shoulder, "You lot should probably head home. It's not gonna be pleasant if I have to explain to Lord Death why my students were seen with me near a bar. I could get fired." He laughed to himself all the way out, the small group following after him. "Have a nice night kids, and Kid, try to think of a good question." He called before jumping on the board and skating off for the gates.

"You don't think he'll crash, do you?" Tsubaki asked worriedly, watching their strange teacher disappear into the distance on the board.

"I doubt it. His ability to perceive his surroundings will make it nearly impossible for him to hit anything he isn't aiming at." Kid responded as they all turned to head to their respective homes, Soul and Maka discussing what to eat that night, and Black*Star walking in an unusual silence.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

John glided smoothly through the streets on the borrowed skateboard, hands in pockets as he thought about the group he'd left behind.

You kinda lead them around, don't you?

"I suppose, but it was rather necessary. I didn't mean to start crying in front of them, though. That was not in my plan." John effortlessly avoided a tipped over trash can, which had spilled its contents all over the street. As he passed it, a wave of black, not much larger than the can itself, righted the can and scooped the trash back inside then quickly dissipated. "I guess at some point I will have to explain myself more thoroughly, huh?"

I think you should.

"You know, most people who take advice from a voice in their head are crazy."

But you are crazy.

"Hmm, true." John chuckled, running a hand through his hair before quickly returning it to his pocket. "So, how did you end up at DWMA?" He guided the skateboard into an alley that cut from one street to another, one much closer to the city gates.

I was actually born here. My mom and dad were students at the academy.

"Oh? Were they a meister and weapon pair?" John brought down one of his feet to pause at an intersection.

You'll go right here. And no, they weren't. They were in the same group of friends for years and it just…happened, from what they'd told me.

"Yeah, I've met a lot of couples who got together like that."

What about you? I assume you have parents, too.

"Yeah, I've got a dad. Mom died." John hopped onto the sidewalk, still gliding towards his destination.

How'd they meet?

"Dad always said that he'd fallen into her arms and that he couldn't imagine life without her." John sighed and stopped the board, stepping on the back end to flip it into his waiting hands.

That's sweet.

"Yeah. My dad had moments like that. Got any siblings?" He started off down the sidewalk, the skateboard slung over his shoulders.

No, I'm an only child. My parents did try for a while, but I guess they gave up.

"Thomas, you know that I'm sorry, right? You had a good life here and…I kinda messed it up."

It was already messed up. My meister died, my parents were in the middle of a massive fight, and I screwed things up with my girlfriend.

"Temporary things. Well, except the death bit. That's sorta permanent. And that only happened a little before I took over, so I doubt it really counts."

Are you going to be like everyone else I talked to about my problems?

"Depends on what you think I'll say next."

I dunno. Something about how I shouldn't let stuff get to me? Maybe tell me not to worry so much?

John let out a small laugh. "No, I'm not gonna tell you anything like that. It's a little late for me to be offering advice, though. You're already dead. Frees you from the worries of this world, I should think." John stopped in front of an imposing gateway, sealed with doors made of wood and metal and bars made of what he assumed to be made of a heavy metal. "Just forget the past. It matters not now. For you, anyway." John examined the door and its bars, running his hands over the surface and using what he could determine, approximated the weight of the bars.

What, are you going to lift them out of the way yourself? We use pulleys to move those things.

"Oh, I think I'll be just fine. Think those bars can hold their own weight?"

Of course they can. They wouldn't be very strong otherwise.

"Well, there's different forms of stress. Guess I'll have to find out for myself." John moved back from the great gate and smiled as two pillars of black rose up from beneath the bars, raising them slowly. "Well, it seems like it'll be just fine."

What are you doing? I can…feel other parts of your mind working.

"I'm moving the bars with their shadows. What you feel is the part of the brain responsible for controlling the shadows waking up. I'll be done soon." The pillars reshaped themselves around the bars, encircling them and raising them even further before engaging the mechanism that held the bars in place when not in use. With their task finished the shadow shapes dissipated, leaving the bars locked in place at the top of the gate.

That was...an unpleasant feeling. John was sure that if he could see Thomas, he would be hunched over, struggling to keep down the bile in his stomach. That's how it was for him at first.

"Yep. You get used to it. I imagine it's much worse for humans than it is Ageless." John stepped back, well outside the swing of the gates, and waited.

What are we doing here?

"Remember when I asked you if you had any siblings?" John asked, using the shadows of the gate to begin opening it.

Yeah, you just asked me.

John chuckled and nodded. "Right, I did. Well, that's what we're doing here."

What?

"We're here to meet my brother." Just as the gates thudded to a stop, a black car pulled through, its engine purring quietly as it drove up next to John and stopped.

"You know, brother, there are many easier places meet at and find." A soft purr-like voice said as the passenger side window rolled down, revealing a face very similar to John's, but more feline and much more open.

"Well, Mason, I figured you would have no problem finding the place since it's the only city for miles in this desert." John unlocked the passenger door and pulled it open, carefully placing Kid's skateboard in the back as he slid in. "Besides, you love any excuse to drive your Falcon." Mason could only 'tsk' in return, knowing John was right. Any place that was more than a fifteen-minute walk, he would gladly drive his car to. He loved showing off his fully, and personally, restored 1976 Ford Falcon XB. The engine was the only bit he had had help with, and that was because he didn't want to keep using all his money at gas stations.

"So what were you doing all the way out here, anyway?" Mason locked the doors and rolled up the window. "Not much interesting here, besides this city and the academy. And the perpetually black moon. What's with that, by the way?" Mason started the drive up the winding road, the gate shutting behind them with help from more shadows.

"The moon is black?" John asked in an almost alarmed voice.

"Yeah, did you not notice?" Mason glanced over at his brother.

"Brother, look me in the eye and say that." John turned his head to Mason, staring at him with unseeing eyes.

"I am well aware that you are blind, but surely someone mentioned it. And stop staring at me like that. It's unnerving."

"It's meant to be. My eyes don't react to anything. I'm sure they have a glassy look, don't they."

"I don't know. Do you remember what glass looks like?" Mason had to bite his lip when his brother gasped loudly, hand over his chest in mock offense.

"Brother, how dare you!" John was not as contained as his sibling and began laughing before he had even finished his sentence. "Oh man, it's too long since I honestly laughed. Ooh, Mason, we should go a bar!"

"You hate getting drunk. And I can't get drunk." Mason pointed out.

"I haven't seen you in nearly fifty years and you don't wanna hang out? Especially since we'll eventually be in deep shit?" John pouted and adopted a sad puppy sort of look.

"Brother, I appreciate the offer and the effort that you are probably planning to put into getting me to drink with you, but I do not think our first night together in five decades getting-"

"Wasted as hell?" John interjected. "Why not? Like you said, you can't even get drunk, your body is so hot that it instantly sets the alcohol on fire and leaves whatever else alone." John sat up in his seat and leaned closer to his brother. "Come on, just one night."

Mason was silent for a few minutes before nodding reluctantly. "Fine, fine. But if you start singing karaoke or anything equally embarrassing, I will leave you there."

John's only response was, "I have a wonderful singing voice."

"What do I call you this time? Don't suppose you're still going by Nyx or whatever that was."

"John. This time, I'm John Cooper." He answered after a moment of silence. Mason only glanced at his brother, choosing to remain quiet. "I'd heard that you chose Cooper as your last name. I figured that since we're brothers, I should do the same." John tried to sound nonchalant, but they could both hear the slight waver. Their ears were too good to miss it.

"I appreciate it," Mason said after a long moment of silence. "So, do you know any good bars in the city?"

John smiled and turned to face his brother. "I know them all."

"Then let's go and watch you get drunker than that guy that used to live down the road from us."

"Jimmy the homeless guy?"

"No, the other one."

"Earl the ranch owner?"

"No, the other one."

"Hmm…Benny our cousin?"

"We had a cousin named Benny?"

"I think he was our cousin. Oh well, let's just get to a bar! There's one a couple streets over." And with that began a night of drinking that the two brothers hadn't experienced in a long time. Mason, unable to actually get drunk, mostly ordered various mixes that involved different fruit juices that the bar had on hand. John, however, drank enough for the two of them and was completely wasted shortly after they arrived at the first bar. It was not too long afterward that John picked a fight with another drunk who was harassing a young woman at the bar counter. The first fist wasn't swung until the drunk called John a 'faggot with a useless father'. The second ended the fight and the brothers' time at the bar.

That wouldn't be the end of the night for them, however. Instead, they simply moved on to the bar, Mason reminding John to behave so they could actually stay. Unfortunately, John was apparently not in a particularly agreeable mood and they were quickly removed from the premises. They blew through five bars in this fashion until finally settling down in one that, unluckily for Mason, contained a karaoke stage. John, at this point, no longer remembered his promise from earlier and insisted on dragging Mason up to the stage by his coat tails.

Mason was unable to leave the stage for three renditions of Radioactive. Following the third sing through of the popular song, John suddenly collapsed, having finally worn through his ridiculous supply of energy. Mason collected his brother, paid for their drinks, and lugged his unconscious sibling to his car, where he carefully laid in him the back seat. "I will admit, that was a lot of fun, brother." Mason drove around the city for nearly an hour, looking for someplace where they could stay for the night. And likely the next day, given how much John had drunk.

Bolting upright in the car, John suddenly said, his voice slurred, "Mason, take me to the school."

Mason, who had believed his brother wouldn't wake up for several hours, cursed loudly and a gun trained on John before he realized that it was his brother. "I swear, I am going to shoot you one of these days! And why do you need to go to the school?" Mason slipped his handgun back into the holster hidden in his coat and exhaled slowly.

"I live in the dungeons!" John replied enthusiastically, leaning forward and trying to wrap his brother in a hug, despite the awkward positioning and Mason trying to drive.

"You are way too happy about that. Sit back!" Mason took one hand off the wheel and pushed his brother away. "If we crash, I will shoot you." With his brother returned to the back seat, Mason turned onto a road that would take him to the DWMA. "I should have known better than to let you get drunk."

"But I'm not drunk! I'm just soooo happy to see my baby brother!" John giggled, toppling over in his seat when Mason turned again, this time a little sharply.

"We don't even know who was born first. And you only act this way if you are completely smashed." Mason pulled up to the front of the academy and parked, pausing to mentally prepare himself for dealing with his drunken sibling.

"Do not! I looooove my brother!" John climbed out of the car himself and practically launched himself at Mason, pulling his taller brother into a tight embrace.

Mason replied by lifting John over his shoulder and carrying him inside, following directions that were given to him amongst declarations of affection for various people that they had met and seemingly random questions about what Mason had been up to. Eventually, he was able to get his brother to his cell, where he discovered a dismantled cot and almost indecipherable carvings on the wall that Mason recognized as depictions of how John perceived language. "You are a very odd person, brother."

"Hehehe, that's what everyone says!" John giggled, flopping onto the cot's mattress, which had been pulled into the only corner not visible from the door. The window had been blocked with the pillow case.

"You are far too drunk." Mason sighed, pulling the blanket over his brother, who was already blinking his eyes sleepily. "I'll stay here tonight, so you don't get into any trouble." Mason sat down in the opposite corner, legs crossed and cane set on his lap.

"Yay! Sleepover!" John quickly sat up and beamed at Mason. "We should get some…snacks…and…" John fell back onto his thin mattress and was sleeping soundly in an instant.

"Perhaps that last bar was a little much." Mason smiled to himself and, with a snap of his fingers, snuffed out the flame of the lantern on the ceiling. "But I must admit, that was the most fun you and I have had together in a long time." So began the most peaceful night Mason could remember since that night in the hospital so long ago.


	11. My Name Is / One Jump Ahead

Mason looked up from his cane when he heard groaning, glancing at his brother on the cot in the corner. "Good morning, sunshine. How's your head?"

"Better without you speaking." John mumbled, pulling his blanket over his head. "I can hear the atoms of this building screeching..."

"Oh please, you once told me that atoms only hum. You're just hungover. I imagine that hearing device in your head makes things worse, huh?" He turned his attention back to his cane, polishing the jewel set into the top.

John peeked out of the top of his blanket. "You know, it always surprises me when you have that." He muttered. "How long ago did I give you that?"

"It'll be...two centuries next month, I think." Mason said thoughtfully, checking the large gem in the sunlight streaming in through cell window. "Interesting lighting system."

"Two hundred years ago...wow. Wait, there's light?" John sat up suddenly, then dropped back on the bed, clutching his head and groaning loudly.

"You are such a wimp when it comes to your head."

"Well excuse me if I get hungover and you don't." John sat up again, much slower the second time. "I don't think I'm gonna be working today..."

"You don't really need to. You already found a candidate for the Master of Brawlers, didn't you?"

"True, but he's a bit of a little shit. Cover for me, so I can recover?" He asked, turning to face his brother and attempt to look pitiful enough for him to say yes.

"Brother, you are very lucky I love you, but puppy eyes will not make me agree to be your substitute for a bunch of children." Mason stood up and stretched. "What am I going to get out of it?"

"I'll get you some catnip." John laughed, before clutching his head. "Ow ow ow...ok, but seriously, just help me out. Blank check style, please?"

"Blank check style? Alright, fine. You got a roster that I can use?"

"It'll be in my desk. Well, Stein's desk, but I'm borrowing it."

"I know you're the Master of Thieves and all, but can you go a day without stealing?" Mason sighed, figuring he'd probably have to track down the desk or this Stein.

"I'll only ever stop stealing when I find something worth keeping." John smiled and laid back down on his cot, covering his head with the blanket.

Mason rolled his eyes and stood, unwinding his tail from around his waist and grabbing his cane with it. "Alright, fine. Carte blanche style, huh? I'll remember that." He headed out, leaving his brother alone in the cell.

Why'd you lie to him? You don't have a hangover. Thomas didn't know Mason very well, he only knew bits and pieces from various memories that surfaced during John's binge last night. He knew there was just a little over half a foot of difference in their heights. He knew that Mason had cat ears and a tail as a result of something from his childhood. He really only knew physical traits.

"I don't think it would be wise to face Kid and his group after the club."

But you meant to them to follow you that night. You even planted a suggestion in Kid's mind or something.

"True, but I had no intention of becoming emotional in front of them. The impromptu hat modeling was nice though. The crying likely made me seem more...well more normal."

Why do you need them to see you as normal?

"I don't. I lost the word I was looking for. I know a lot of languages and it's hard to keep up with the words. No, I need them to like me. Or at least be willing to listen to me without question." He ran a hand over his face as he sat back up.

Why?

"I'm a planner. Despite me claiming to be winging it much earlier, I have a plan. I always have a plan."

A plan for what? What do you think is going to happen?

John grinned and shook his head. "Exactly what I'm sure is going to happen. Just trust me."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

Mason had moved stars, crushed entire buildings, and even once survived a nuclear bomb, and yet he was not a particularly strong individual. So when he saw the size of the stolen desk, he decided it would be best to leave it where it was and simply retrieve the roster from within it. "I have a while...might as well find something to do..." He sighed heavily and took off to wander around the school.

"Hello. Who are you?" Not very far into his wandering, Mason came across a man of similar height and build to himself, though he was pale and had an exceptionally large screw protruding from his head.

"I'm Mason. John's brother." Hopefully his brother wasn't lying to him about working here. If so, Mason was going to kill him.

"You look a lot like him. Except your hair. And eyes." The man with the screw seemed particularly interested in his eyes, leaning forward to study the improbable textured appearance of the black irises. "Natural or contacts?"

"Natural." He sighed. Just as his brother's mask drew attention, so too did Mason's eyes, if his tail and ears were hidden. "I have given my name. Proper manners would dictate that you give yours."

"I'm Franken Stein."

"Pleasure to meet you. My brother asked me to fill in for him today. I trust that will be fine."

It is not a pleasure to meet him. He's creepy. Fury didn't often use the word creepy to describe someone.

It's fine. Not like we aren't used to being stared at, right?

"That should be fine. Lord Death isn't very picky about subs. Say, that tail of yours, does it have a full range of movement?"

Mason blinked and his tail curled upward into a hook. "Uh..yeah, it does. It moves in the same manner as an actual cat's tail."

"Interesting. You should allow me to examine you, as a scientific study. I'm sure I could learn quite a lot from you."

I think it would be wise to decline that. He smells of the Third's power.

Don't need a being from the beginning of time itself to tell me that. "I hope you don't mind, but I feel the need to decline that request. I am really only comfortable with my doctor examining me." Mason said, an attempt at a friendly smile on his face.

Now walk away slowly.

No shit, Fury. "Anyway, I really must be going. Have to be prepared for the class.".

"Of course. I have my own class that I must attend to." Stein straightened and wound the screw, a loud clicking filling the air.

Why does this man have a screw in his head? And why is it clicking? Fury's discomfort flooded Mason's mind, but he pushed it away.

For an unnatural creature yourself, you get rather distressed when confronted with odd humans. "Yes, of course. If you don't mind, I will be on my way." He had no idea where he would go, since the time given on his roster was until later in the school day, but anywhere that was not where Stein was would be good enough for him.

I am not unnatural. I am a result of the feelings of all creatures, mortal and immortal. I am a collection of rage made conscious and given a free will. I grew like all other creatures. A giant screw in the head is very unnatural. Mason could almost see the pout on Fury's face. For a being even older than himself, Fury could be fairly childish at times. I am not childish.

Don't read my thoughts. You promised not to after the other night. Mason turned to walk away and almost ran over a man with dull red hair and a rumpled black suit. "Ah, excuse me."

"No, sorry, that was my fault. I was about to ask who you were." The man said, straightening his tie.

"Are, since I'm the same person as I was and I'm still alive."

No, I think he was right.

What? How? "At any rate, I am Mason. I'm filling in for my brother today, who is suffering a hangover."

Way to put his business out there. You just could have said that he was sick.

"Your brother? Would that be John? You look a lot like him." The red haired man said.

"Really? I wouldn't think anyone could tell with that mask of his." Though, it is a fitted mask. Hand-made for his face.

Have I ever seen your brother's face?

Not for a very long time.

"Yeah, you have the same chin and jaw. Don't know about much else, but definitely the chin and jaw." He nodded, more to himself than to Mason.

"Ah. I guess being twins still leaves its mark, even if one wears a mask." Mason commented absently.

"Twins? But…?" The man held up his hands, one much higher than the other and he eyed the tail, which was waving gently behind the man.

"I uh….I have a genetic mutation, as a result of a treatment when I was younger." Mason smiled, his tail angling up somewhat.

"Oh, is that why you're so tall?"

"Yes. It caused my body to create more growth hormones than my brother's did. Anyway, I really must be getting on. I have to be prepared for the class later today." Mason stepped around the man and started to head back in the direction he'd originally come from when the man grabbed hold of his arm.

"I'm Spirit, by the way. The current Death Scythe for Lord Death." The red haired man informed him. "And where is John again?"

"Should be in his room down in the dungeons, though I use the term 'room' rather loosely." He replied. "If not, I would check the city. My brother loves to wander." He pulled his arm from Spirit's grasp and began walking once again.

Down in the dungeons, John stood and stretched. He kicked aside the blankets and pulled open the door to his cell.

Where are we going?

"Out. There was something I meant to do, but I can't remember what it was." He leaned back into the cell and grabbed his jacket, shrugging it on as he closed the door. "And, I rather like wandering about cities."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

After nearly twenty minutes of waiting, Mason got bored and decided to nap. He didn't need to sleep. In fact, it had been well over a decade since he'd last slept, and that had been from boredom as well. In all honesty, what he did likely didn't count as sleeping anyway, since he never dreamed and never lost consciousness. He just, for lack of a better word, powered down. Unfortunately, his awareness of the surrounding area was effectively cut off, leading to embarrassing moments, such as students arriving to class early and finding their substitute laid out atop a stolen desk, the class roster set over his face.

"Hey, Kid, who's this?" Maka asked as she walked up to the man on the desk, which was still in the middle of the gym.

"I have no idea, but the desk at least explains why Professor Stein is using a fold up table." Kid walked closer as well and grabbed the roster, peering at the face of the man. "He reminds me of John, especially in the chin and jaw."

"You are the second person to say that to me today." Mason replied, his eyes opening. The warmth of nearby people had been enough to 'wake' him. "Shinigami. You're a young death god. Reaper, in American histories. I assume you're the son of the one running the school?" Mason didn't bother to sit up, instead choosing to glance at the roster in Kid's hand. "Are you Death the Kid?"

"Uh...yes."

"Excellent. Mark yourself present, if you don't mind. Who's the young lady with you?" Mason turned his eyes on Maka, glancing again at the roster after.

"Maka Albarn." Mason nodded and pointed at the list of names, handing them a pen with his tail.

"Great. Mind marking everyone that is here present? I'm not familiar with you all and I can't go ask my brother. Ah, it seems more are arriving. Ask everyone to gather in front of the desk for me, will you?"

"Wait, who are you? Did John call in sick?" Maka asked, marking herself as asked anyway.

"I will explain when everyone is gathered. Please see to that." Throughout the conversation, Mason had not moved from his sprawled position, but had stretched out his legs.

"Alright..." Maka and Kid walked off to gather the students before the desk, Mason watching them lazily. Once everyone was standing in front of the desk, he motioned for the roster and checked over it thoroughly before sitting up, swinging his legs over the side.

"Hi, my name is irrelevant. But you can call me Mason." He scooted off the edge and stood up, removing his coat and throwing it over the desk. "I'm your substitute." He stretched, his tail straightening then curling back. "So, what was my brother in charge of?"

"Advanced combat movements." Maka replied almost immediately.

"Ah. He would actually be well suited for that." Mason leaned back against the desk and looked up at the ceiling. "What has he done so far in regards to that?"

"An obstacle course. We were blindfolded and our classmates arranged the course for us." Oxford answered, adjusting his glasses.

"Excellent. I'm assuming that you all didn't finish, but I won't make you." Mason smiled at the sighs of relief, picking up his cane from where it leaned against the desk. "Besides, he was probably just keeping you busy. He much prefers teaching music to teaching how to fight. However, I have no problem with it. Now, as I understand it, some of you can turn yourselves into weapons. Given that weapons cannot wield themselves, with the exception of a few I've seen in my time, I will assume that some of you are partners. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Someone in the group answered.

"Excellent. Get with your partners and then in whatever groups you're usually put in. I will assess your ability to work with each other. Then I'm gonna completely screw with your established connections and make you team up with others."

"Hey, teach, why are ya having us do this? We've saved the world with our moves before." Black*Star asked loudly, remaining where he was despite Tsubaki's much quieter attempts to move him.

"Yes, well, that was against a creature mainly comprised of insanity. And while I'm sure you fought with things capable of matching you, it never hurts to improve. Now, go stand with your group." Mason pointed at the only group without three complete teams. "Then, your lesson will begin."

Black*Star wandered over to his group, grumbling none too quietly about how he would surpass God and that no teacher could make him better.

"Actually, you, blue-haired ninja, come here." Mason called, pointing at the spot in front of him. "Since you seem so 'skilled', why not assist the teacher with the lesson?" He asked as the short teen changed direction and headed for the desk, Tsubaki in tow. "Ah, miss, you wait with the group. He won't need you for this part." He said as kindly as possible, a smile on his face.

Meanwhile, John had decided to sneak out of the dungeons and explore the city more fully than he had during his tour. He figured that since his brother would be fine without him, he might as well learn more about the other side of Death City.

Hey, you sure your brother will be alright? The EAT class is a bit of a handful, when you're making them run around doing pointless exercises. Thomas added in the equivalent to a mutter.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. He's got a good head on his shoulders. And he's a good deal calmer than what he used to be." John replied, stepping over a pile of garbage from an overturned can. "You know, alleys used to be much better. They were respectable enough for people to meet in them and not complain about the smell. No wonder there are hardly any classy thieves and criminals left." He grumbled, climbing over a chain link fence. "And what's with these fences? They're so easy to climb. All those holes." He shook his head and readjusted his jacket.

Are you seriously complaining about the lack of clean alleys? Really? When you could get mugged at any moment? Even Death City has criminals!

"Sorta what I'm counting on. It's a lot of fun meeting new miscreants!"

Miscreants? Really?

"What? Wrong word? It is a synonym for criminal, right?"

Yeah, but it's...it doesn't have the same connotation.

"What? Really? I thought that words with the same meaning would just...work."

How long have you been speaking English?

"Uh….approximately….thirty five thousand years? I learned it when I first arrived here, when it became my permanent home." John sneezed and rubbed his nose.

"Bless you, sir." An oily voice said from a little further down the alleyway, a man stepping into view not too long after, his appearance matching his voice, excepting his skin, which couldn't have possibly been any lighter.

"Ah, thank you." John smiled, sniffing for a moment.

Hey maybe you shouldn't talk to him. Anyone in an alley can't be up to anything good.

….We're in an alley.

Thanks for making my point for me.

John blew a mental raspberry at Thomas while he addressed the other man. "What's your name, man? Whatcha doing in an alley in the middle of such a nice day."

"People call me Slick," the man responded, to which John had to bite back a laugh, "and I'm just waiting for a fool like you to wander on in here." At that, John couldn't keep in his laughter.

"I'm sorry, man, but that's some funny shit. Is that supposed to mean you're gonna mug me? Gonna take my little bomber jacket and my mask and sell it?" He couldn't keep in the chuckling and snickering, eventually having to stop so he could breathe, all the while Slick stood in front of him, his face slowly becoming redder and redder.

"Alright, little man, you think this is so funny, let's see you laugh with this in your neck." The man pulled a knife and charged at John, who was giggling as if he'd heard the world's funniest joke and he wasn't ready to stop hearing it.

Unfortunately for the would-be mugger, he had decided to pick a fight with someone more than well versed in many fighting styles and with exponentially more experience with theft than Slick could ever hope to have. Which is why he would never understand how he'd ended up face first on the ground, knife hilt pressed against his back, and John on top of him, still laughing his head off.

"This thing," the smaller man said once he'd stopped laughing, pressing the handle down a little harder, "isn't much of a knife. Also, I want you to appreciate the fact that you just got taken down by a man no taller than five feet five inches and barely weighing more than a buck forty, after a healthy Thanksgiving dinner."

"You know what, fuck you, man. How'd you even do that? Gimme back that knife!" Slick wriggled violently, but John refused to be dislodged.

"Oh, shut up. I got a question for you, then you can have the knife back, if you behave." He sighed and spun the knife so the tip was poking into the man's back.

"What the fuck you gotta say?" He gave another strong jerk before giving up and lying still.

"All I gotta ask is, when the fuck did you all lose respect for the Master of Thieves?" John almost growled, stabbing the knife into the ground and breaking the blade.

"Oh, Jesus..." Slick stuttered. "The Master of Thieves? You shittin' me?"

"Does it sound like I'm 'shittin'' you? At least you've heard of me this far out. Now, I do need some help figuring my way around the darker side of Death City, as inactive as it may be all things considered. But every city has crime. Tell me about it."

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

"So then, Black*Star, what have we learned about disrespecting the teacher?" Mason asked, the blue-haired teen pinned down with one of the taller man's hands between his shoulders and the other pinching at a nerve in his arm, numbing his upper body.

"Don't fight the teacher with the moves." The young ninja replied.

"For a godling, you're a bit of a moron. But that will do for now. So, class, do you think that you don't have anything to learn from me? Or can I continue with the lesson that Black*Star helped me start?"

"Mr. Mason?" Maka raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"I think Black*Star needs to get up."

"Probably. Back to your group, please, young man." Mason stood, releasing his student. Honestly, had he not started it, Black*Star may have been injured. Since he knew what was going to happen first, he was able to avoid hitting him, and getting hit. That would have hurt. "So, class, let's start with just plain old movement exercises. Thank Black*Star for that." The class groaned collectively, but slowly got into positions that would keep them from hurting each other. "Without weapons, please." The groan was louder, but the demon weapons walked off to watch their meisters. "Excellent. Begin with the movements you would normally use when wielding your partners. Start."


	12. Luigi's Mansion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Necro: This was a Halloween special I wrote for 2017! If I get back to this story, this will definitely be continued.

John had long since given out the address to his apartment. It had started with Kid, who insisted he would need it for school purposes. Then Maka and Soul had asked for it, not even bothering to hide their reason being that they just wanted to drop by every so often and check in on their teacher. Then their cat or witch or whatever the woman had been had demanded it from him. He had actually been somewhat terrified, as anything with animal instincts, apart from his pet Henry, fled at his approach, and had readily given up the location of his residence. The Thompson twins asked for it after they realized most of their friends had it and he had simply given up at that point of keeping it secret and handed them a card with the address written on it before they had even finished asking, telling them to at least knock unlike their friends. They didn't, leading to many grumpy weekend mornings. Black*Star had just shown up at his door demanding a fight to prove he had gotten strong, an apologetic Tsubaki in tow. The young ninja left unconscious on the young woman's back, while John apologized for making her carrying the bluenette.

But of course, all that aside, he truly hadn't expected to receive mail from any of them, not when most of them insisted on just walking in as they pleased, which had gotten to the point that he kept his fridge and cabinets stocked with snacks they liked. One feel of the envelop though immediately told him who it was from. Only two of the group of friends would bother writing him a letter for any reason, but of those two, only one actually had a pen that used the puffy ink that he could read with his fingertips. The ink mentioned is a special kind that John had had made for him that, as it dried, would puff up slightly. He had always despised braille, though he admitted the system was effective.

"Kid, you always call. What is..?" He tore open the envelop and opened the painstakingly folded card within to run his fingers over the page and read the words:

You have been invited to attend

Masquerade Night

at Death's Mansion!

10 pm Friday

"Really, Kid? I always wear a mask. Seems a bit redundant." The man chuckled as he carefully re-folded the card and set it on his coffee table as he sat in the armchair across from it. There had originally only been the armchair in his living room, but the many visits he'd received had forced him to upgrade his furniture to a couch and a couple other chairs that had been crammed into the, now noticeably, small room. And it was in one of these seats that a figure, composed of the shadows thrown across the far wall by John's lamp, which served no other purpose than to make guests feel comfortable, now sat. The figure, if anyone were there to observe it carefully enough, had the same general appearance of John, but with much more well looked after clothing and a distinct lack of his emerald eyes.

"I take it we're still attending anyway?" The figure asked, though the voice did not leave John's mind, as it picked up the invitation and turned it over in its hands.

There was a long pause as John stared at the far wall, a distant, and non-too pleasant, look in his sightless eyes. "I don't know. It's been a while since I went to an actual party. I'm not particularly good with people, you know."

The Third set the invitation back down and turned to look at his vessel, steepling his fingers in front of his chest as he regarded the man. "My tastes have changed much over the millennia, as you well know. When we first met, nothing would bring me more joy than to watch the look of despair slowly twist a person's face. Now, I find myself enjoying these...parties with an enthusiasm that I believed I was incapable of. So, if I can go from being a creature that only found pleasure in the torment of people's minds and bodies to one that would genuinely look forward to something like this," he gestured at the envelop and card, "then I am certain that you can enjoy yourself tonight as well."

"Threesies! Don't be a spoilsport! It's fun to which him agonize over his choices!" The sudden switch from the Third's eerily deep and dangerously soothing tone to the grating pitch of the Bringer of Madness's voice was not something that John would ever welcome, but by now had become far too used to it. "Now he'll want to go! Of course, seeing that pretty thing is well worth it!" Before either the Third or John could interject, Bringer had already devolved into his maddening giggling and was replaced by the gravelly tone of Shade.

"I actually agree with Threes here. Go to the party. We'll stay out of it this evening." John would take a conversation with Shade over the other two any day, but hearing him agree with the Third? Surely something had been in the water he'd drunk earlier.

"You all seem pretty eager to get me out of the house." He chuckled.

"Your moping gives me a headache." The combination of all three voices was enough to make even the Master of Thieves' skin to crawl and he nodded rapidly to signify that he was, indeed, going to the party.

"You had better hurry then. We already know what you'll pick and it takes you foorrreevver to change into it!" The Bringer again fell into a giggling fit, but John merely rolled his eyes. The personification of madness itself could never have been more right. It was already after noon and even if he began now, there was no guarantee that he would be ready by ten. He jumped up and hurried to his room, the figure in the opposite seat dissolving quickly until, for the briefest of moments, all that remained was its face, with a large grin that would rival the Cheshire cat himself, before that too disappeared.

MadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMadMad

Kid glanced at the pocket-watch gleaming in his hand, watching the second hand tick closer to ten. Most of the guests had arrived by nine, the stragglers trickling in little by little after that. He didn't even know why he had the watch, it didn't go with his costume. The girls had managed to talk him into dressing as Jack Skellington, a character he had not known existed and was reluctant to admit that he actually pulled off rather well. At least, based on the pictures they had used as reference while doing his makeup. Either way, he didn't quite know why he had brought the watch out. He didn't even know why he still had it. It was John's, even bore the mark of the Master of Thieves, a mask from which a man, almost unnoticeable due to the size difference and sheer subtlety of the art, peeked out from behind. Maybe he planned to return it to him during the party. If the man ever showed. Kid had been watching since the first guests arrived, but there had been no glimpse of impossibly bright green or a flick of that familiar black jacket that almost dragged along the ground, but was just an inch short of doing so. And even if he decided to forgo the jacket and hide his eyes, Kid doubted he would remove the fitted mask that hid the man's face from the world. And that stylized visage was hard to miss.

"Hey, Kid, you gonna start the party or what?" Liz called from inside, peering out at him from the doorway of the balcony. It overlooked the entrance and, not even a minute after guests arrived, he had rushed to the overhanging balcony, almost about to ask everyone to walk in pairs or some other even number when he heard the watch in his pocket begin to tick louder than usual. Kid being distracted by the watch gave Liz and Patti the time necessary to get the bulk of the guests inside before he could freak out.

"Hmm?" The young Shinigami looked up from the watch, which had quieted down by that point, and turned to face the older of the Thompson sisters. "Oh, yes, I'll be right there. And Liz?" He called her back after a moment, the blonde poking her head back into the doorway. "Couldn't you have picked a more...symmetrical outfit?"

"Kid, I'm a mummy. Mummy's aren't supposed to be symmetrical. Remember that guy in Egypt?" She pointed out before leaving him to mingle with their friends and classmates.

"True, but your wrappings could be a little more evenly placed." He grumbled before following her into the main hall, deciding that maybe hadn't come after all. He hurried to stairs so he could announce the start of party once he noticed just how close to ten it was. "Everyone!" He called from the top of the staircase, a wide grin on his face as he greeted his friends. "Thank you for coming this evening and joining us in our masquerade party!" Kid's statement was met with general enthusiasm and some soft cheering. With that, Kid descended the stairs and everyone began to socialize and full the provided small plates with Halloween themed treats, the favorite proving to be the homemade sugar skulls.

"Hey, Kid. That's a pretty cool costume. Didn't know you were a fan." Soul said as he walked up to the young Shinigami.

"I wasn't even aware The Nightmare Before Christmas existed until Patti insisted we watch it for movie night last week. I found it quite interesting. Just like your costume." Kid looked over his friend's costume, a rather well made imitation of Yashiro Isana.

"Yeah. There aren't a lot of costumes I can do without a wig or dying my hair, so Maka suggested the Silver King." Soul said, running a hand through his hair to keep it down, the almost gravity defying locks attempting to return to their usual shape.

"I didn't know Maka was a fan of anime." Kid replied, watching with some understanding as Soul tried to keep his hair in place. As a Shinigami, Kid couldn't dye his hair, since his body rejected any and all contaminants. In fact, it was a bit of a miracle, and quite a bit of work, that his Jack Skellington makeup had stayed on as long as it had.

"She's not really, but she saw me watching K once and thought this would be a cool costume for me."

"And it worked out well, didn't it, Soul?" Maka asked from behind Soul, carrying drinks for her and her weapon partner. Soul nodded as he took one of the drinks from Maka and took a sip. "I haven't seen John around, by the way. Did you invite him?"

"Yeah, I sent him an invite that I was sure he could read." Kid replied, glancing around the party again at the mention of their teacher.

"Maybe he decided to dress up. After all, it is a costume party. Even Maka got in costume." Soul pointed out, gesturing at Maka's choice of Alice, from Alice and Wonderland.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to pick Alice." Kid said as he looked over her costume.

"It was my favorite book when I was little." Maka shrugged, taking a long drink from her cup before she glanced at the dance floor, which was already full of their classmates. "Soul, come dance with me."

"But-" Before he could even finish protesting, Soul was being dragged in the direction of the dance floor, looking back at his friend for help. Kid merely chuckled and waved, not risking a possible whack on the head from Maka, though he was unsure of where she would get the book that usually went along with it.

"Good friends you have there, though one doesn't look too happy about being asked to dance by a pretty girl." A male voice said from behind Kid, causing him to turn and come face-to-face with the Phantom of the Opera. Or rather, a very well made costume of the Phantom.

"Soul isn't very keen on dancing." Kid said with a grin. "That's an incredible costume, by the way."

"Thank you," the man said, his voice a bit rough, and adjusted the mask. "The mask is a bit difficult, but everything else went rather well. Especially the cape." He swished the cape for emphasis and smiled, his vibrant blue eyes twinkling.

"Oh, so you made it yourself?"

"Yes, I did. Though, I need to work on my mask making skills. I took some of the measurements a little short and had to give it a little extra room." He added, as he adjusted the mask again, "Apparently too much extra."

Kid laughed softly and nodded, looking his conversation companion over. "I can't say that I know exactly who you are, but I'm certain that I know you."

"Indeed you do, but I'm not saying!" The man responded in almost a sing-song tone. "Oooh, that sounds weird. Doing a sing-song voice and trying to stay sounding gruff is difficult." He mumbled. "Anyway, I'll leave you to talk with your other friends while I go find something good to eat! Hopefully all those sugar skulls aren't gone." The man said as he walked off in the direction of the large tables covered in food and Halloween decorations.

With that, Kid spent a good deal of the party split between talking to his friends and looking for John. It wasn't until just before midnight that he thought to check the watch in his pocket, meaning to end the party around one. It was only then that he noticed that the watch was missing. He had no idea when it could have left his person, but he did know that it would have taken some skill to swipe it from the inner pocket that he'd been keeping it in. And he honestly doubted that there were that many thieves at his party. Which meant, John was there, somewhere.

"Kid!" A loud shout made the young Shinigami look up at his friend, Black*Star, who had, of course, come dressed as a ninja. "Hey, this is a great party! I'm kinda surprised it's going so well." He added.

"What? Why?" Kid asked, looking around for the familiar clothing or even the mask or, if he really wished to push it, someone about John's height.

"Well, you're in charge. I would have thought you would be freaking out over all the things that don't match up or something." Black*Star said, even going so far as to point out some of the asymmetrical costumes and decorations.

"Liz made me promise not to, so I've been focusing on my friends. Speaking of, you haven't seen John around, have you? I think he took his watch back."

"No, I haven't seen him." Black*Star shrugged and looked ready to say something else when he noticed Soul standing off against a wall, far from the dance floor, and decided to head over there, shouting his friend's name.

Kid shook his head and headed for the food table, certain that he could find the food-loving John there, if anywhere. Instead, he found the Phantom man again. "Excuse me, I don't suppose you've seen a friend of mine around here? He's about your height and build, but he has green-" Kid was interrupted by a sudden ticking sound as the Phantom man turned to face him, snapping closed the missing watch and facing him with a toothy grin.

"Two hours, my dear boy. That's how long it's been since I lifted this," he shook the watch at him, "from your inner pocket. But good thinking. It's just a bit more difficult to grab something from without being noticed. Which is where this cape comes in handy."

Kid stared hard at the man, unsure if he was willing to believe what he was implying. "John?"

"Ah, you finally guessed it. I thought you would have caught on right away." John laughed, a wide grin on his face. He held up a hand to stop Kid from saying more and tested a few notes with his voice before coughing and testing again until, finally, he was back at the usual tone and slight Scottish accent that Kid was used to. "Weird to be using a different tone after sounding like a Scotsman for a few millennia. Anyway, like my costume? Honest to goodness?"

"Yes, it's incredible, but why didn't you tell me it was you?"

"Kid, it's Halloween. Costumes are a big part of that and who would I be if I didn't take advantage of that and mess with you?" John laughed, swinging the watch by its chain. "By the way, you've been saying it wrong."

"What? What have I been saying wrong?"

"This," he jerked the chain and flicked the watch into his palm and pointed at it, "is not a watch. It's a Watch. It's a technicality, but Ethan gets so upset when we don't respect the names of his inventions."

"But...why is it a Watch and not a watch?" Kid asked, making certain to stress the importance of the W.

"I've no bloody clue." John answered with a shrug and a giggle. "Anyway, this has been quite an excellent party so far. And the sugar skulls really were quite good."

"Thank you. Patti actually made them herself, so I'll let her know you liked them."

"I'll tell her myself. Compliments feel far more sincere when you get them in person." John smiled and went to grab another when, in true movie cliche fashion, the lights cut off and everyone screamed. "Hold yourself, boy. Something isn't right." John said as he grabbed Kid's arm before he could run off into the dark. "I can't see anything..." Then the lights flicked back on and everyone glanced around, some huddled in groups. Then, a new scream tore through the party. This time, John was right behind Kid as he ran through the crowd that was quickly gathering around the source of the cry of terror.

It was Tsubaki and she was holding something unbelievable in her arms: Black*Star, the unnecessarily loud ninja finally silenced. "Star! Black*Star! Wake up! This isn't funny! Wake up!" She shouted, hugging him to her chest, ignoring the spreading red stain as she tried 'wake' her friend.


End file.
